


the rattle of their hearts

by iron_spider



Series: rattle universe [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Bucky Barnes Feels, Gen, Important Emotional Connections, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Precious Peter Parker, Steve Rogers Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 13:19:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 58,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14521422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iron_spider/pseuds/iron_spider
Summary: SPOILERSTony deals with the aftermath of Infinity War. He needs to get things back to normal. And Peter is an essential part of normal.





	1. Chapter 1

Tony doesn’t know how long it’s been. 

It feels like a million years but it also feels like five seconds ago, and sometimes he startles himself out of his stupor because he can still feel the ash on his hands. Right after the kid disappeared, most of it had been carried away in the wind, but some of it was there, on the ground, and half of it was all over him. Tony had panicked, half wanting to get it off, fucking get it off, half desperately needing to save it, because maybe that could help, maybe if he kept the ashes—he could get the kid back. 

Because this couldn’t be an actual thing that was actually happening. 

Supposedly, days are passing, but he can’t really find it in him to count them, or participate in them, or do anything that’s of worth to anybody. His uselessness is a fucking plague. 

He made it home, the whole thing is a blur but he knows the blue chick was involved, he can barely remember her name, and as soon as he made it back to the streets of New York, he nearly got hit by a car trying to find Pepper. He was so single-minded he could barely see anything else, could barely hear the screaming, people that were yelling his name. _Iron Man’s back, ladies and gentlemen, please save the rotten vegetables for when he’s ready to receive them._

It was like there was ash everywhere, covering everything, and there was another pile once he got inside. He’d almost fucking stepped in it and he’d nearly lost it then, because if both Pepper and the kid were gone he knew he was inches from a complete system shutdown, but she came skidding around the corner with squeaking sneakers and caught him before he toppled to the ground. 

She held him for a long time, and he could barely hear her, to the point where he wondered if something was wrong with his fucking ears or if it was all in his head, this goddamn ringing, this absence of sound like the silence of space but he could hear her shushing him, could hear her saying his name, not asking because she knew. She knew the world fucking ended. 

“Happy’s okay,” he heard Pepper say, gripping the back of his neck like she was afraid he was going to disintegrate too.

_I don’t wanna go, I don’t wanna go, Mr. Stark—_

Tony closed his eyes tighter and clung to her like a child. Like Peter clung to him.

“That was…that was Amanda, the new PA, a bunch—a bunch of them were here, overall we were—we were lucky, but I didn’t want—I didn’t want to—”

“Kid’s gone,” Tony said. “The kid’s gone. Peter’s gone.”

He didn’t find out who else was gone until that night. Everyone had been trying to contact him by any means possible, he had upwards of two hundred messages, and a few of them were from Steve. He sounded broken too, not the normal brokenness of Captain America but something else now, that kind of failure that Tony felt in his chest and in his gut like someone sawing out his insides. He thought it was because he was blaming himself, another familiar feeling, but then he heard that Barnes was on the list of the lost and he understood a little better. 

_I hope you’re okay_ Steve had said. _I hope you’re okay, I just—I hope you get to listen to this. If you do, please get a hold of me. I just—God, we need to—we need to figure something out. I hope you’re there. I hope you made it._

That’s when Tony locked himself away in his office.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been. He knows somewhere in there Pepper tentatively broke the news about May Parker, and Peter’s friend Ned, and it felt like a couple mini explosions went off in Tony’s head, rupturing something, breaking something important. He wonders what kind of randomness that purple asshole bought into, how it chose who to steal and who to leave behind. 

Tony feels insane. He tries to work through all the information in his head and flip through it like a giant book entitled Failures of Tony Stark, because that’s the world’s story now, Iron Man flew to space and then the world fucking ended. It hits him sometimes that this happened everywhere, not just Earth—Universe—the entire fucking universe was split open and decimated because he couldn’t do his job.

_Mr. Stark, I don’t feel so good, I don’t know what’s happening—_

Tony smacks his own temple hard, twice, gritting his teeth. “Alright, alright, I can’t keep—” He can’t keep hearing it but he knows he goddamn deserves to hear it. They all fucked it up, Earth’s mightiest heroes his goddamn ass, they fucked it up, they failed, and now they’re paying for it with the horror reel playing in all of their heads.

His is the kid. The kid begging, holding him so tight, like he thought Tony could do something, could save him. And Tony should have been able to fix it. He should have stopped it. Long before that moment. He should have anticipated it, should have nipped it in the bud and stomped out the grape prick before he got his bracelet bedazzled—but instead the closest thing Tony had to a son died in his arms. Peter’s face is burned on the backs of Tony’s eyes. That last look. The godforsaken apology. And then ashes. 

“Tony,” Pepper’s voice says, through the door. “Tony, you—one, you need to eat something, and two, Steve Rogers—”

“Steve Rogers doesn’t know I’m alive and for the moment I’m going to maintain that position,” Tony calls. He doesn’t have anything in his hands and that needs to change—he’s gotta jump into action—he has books for this, he has a lab for this, he has friends for this, real, super friends who have more knowledge than him and more experience than him, but he’s paralyzed. Seeding through his memories and every little thing he knows because he should be able to do this himself, he should be able to take care of it. It’s his goddamn responsibility, to right his wrongs, fix his mistakes. For the whole half of the universe that had to fade out of existence because of his bullshit, his inability to do one fucking thing right.

But he’s gotta—it’s an essential thing, to get the kid back. He hasn’t moved into acceptance yet and he doesn’t see that on the horizon, no way, no goddamn way, not in a million years. He’ll be a homeless eighty year old asshole throwing leaves at passers-by in Central Park and he still won’t accept a world without Peter Parker.

But he’s afraid of the impossible. He doesn’t want to think about how big it all feels, the enormity ready to overwhelm him. 

He doesn’t want to think about the odds.

He doesn’t know why the hell it isn’t Rhodey who’s calling today, instead of Steve. It irritates Tony and makes him want to ignore it even harder. He needs help but he can’t accept it, not yet. He can’t find it in him. He can’t even find it in him to move. He doesn’t know how to approach anything, how to face it. He has to remind himself to breathe, because the panic has him, has its claws in him. He still hears the ringing, the silence, the kid’s death mantra like a bad migraine in the center of his forehead.

“And as delightful as your cooking is, I’m good without any more—”

“He’s out here,” Pepper says, not letting him finish. But then he registers what she says. A tremor runs through him and he swallows a little hitched breath. His thoughts go foggy, all the half-formed rescue plans and world saving expeditions and fucking time machines are suddenly shattered by Captain America’s star-spangled ass standing outside of his office. Not a phone call, he’s actually goddamn _here_. Tony can almost see the outline of him there, shoulders slumped, brow furrowed, and Tony doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing here. Why the hell he decided to take a chance and run off to find somebody who might be dead. Hasn’t he seen enough death? Isn’t he done with it?

“Tony?” Pepper’s voice calls.

He’s half expecting Steve’s voice to come next and he swallows hard, trying to brace for it. He can’t find his own, can’t fucking answer her, and he doesn’t want to cop to being scared because it makes no sense, he’s never been scared of Steve Rogers, even when they were trying to kill each other. So why’s he flaking out now?

He claps a hand over his mouth and his eyes burn and he keeps seeing the look on the kid’s face when he finally got him on the ground. He keeps remembering what it felt like when he disappeared, how there was a warm body and a scared kid there moments before, and then nothing, nothing. Everything that Peter Parker was—ash, like he’d never been there at all.

Maybe looking at Steve will make it real. He knows that’s irrational—logically, he knows that. But nothing is logical or rational anymore. He has the ashes of a dead intern in his front hallway. And the kid is dead. That’s the thing that makes the least sense.

“Tony.”

Steve’s voice this time. And it’s not a question, it’s a statement, and for some reason, it’s infuriating. Tony’s hand slides off his face and he’s burning with misplaced anger now too, and he has a clearheaded moment when he realizes his misplaced anger almost always lands on Steve Rogers. That pisses him off too. 

“What?” he demands. “I’m not exactly in the mood for visitors, Cap, especially ones that have anything to do with the colossal fuck-up that’s got the world in a chokehold right now.” It stings when he says it, reminds him of that exercise he did in therapy when he’d have to say _I know I’m being an asshole. I’m aware of my current assholeish behavior._

He hears the kid in his head. _Should I go to therapy? You think it would be a good idea? I mean, I guess it’s good to talk about things with like, an outsider? But I definitely like—I’d have to be kinda vague with her, I mean, I can’t tell her about falling off a building or whatever, she’d think there was something wrong with me. She’d probably call the cops._

He never stopped talking. In the beginning it was a little bit irritating, then it became endearing, and then Tony actually started listening. Tony’s levels of acceptance for the kid sped through all the markers faster than anybody else had in a long time. He didn’t usually tolerate those levels of fondness, but the kid made it impossible. He brought out the affection, the radioactive levels of protectiveness, the almost hyperactive helicopter parenting Tony should have known he’d have inside him. 

Because the kid was good. He was full of light and hope and he never stopped talking, never stopped informing Tony of every little thing that entered his head. Tony wanted to hear what he had to say. But now he’s not saying anything.

Then the key is in the door and Pepper is betraying him because she put the goddamn key in the door, and before he can even prepare himself it’s swinging open like in a horror movie and he half expects Steve to be standing there with an axe. Instead, it’s Pepper with her hands on her hips. She looks disappointed, and then she doesn’t look like anything, quickly walking away to reveal Steve standing there behind her.

The expression on his face is worse, and then Tony remembers where he is and how pathetic he must look. Sitting on the ground in the corner of his office, his knees pulled up to his chest like a kid playing hide and seek in kindergarten. He doesn’t move, though he can’t say why he doesn’t. He can’t track any of his decisions anymore.

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing Steve says. And it was also the last thing Peter said, so Tony shakes his head. 

“Don’t say that.” For multiple reasons. Because the kid said it. Because Steve has lost, too. Because Tony doesn’t wanna hear an apology ever again unless he’s the one saying it to Peter’s face.

Steve still stands in the doorway. “Are you alright?”

“Uh, that’s a solid no,” Tony says, and he hates the waver in his voice. He dips his head into his hands and sighs. “You?”

“About the same,” Steve says, and he sounds like he’s getting closer.

“Yeah,” Tony says, with a bitter laugh. “You really look like you’re cowering in your office unsure of what day it is.” He looks up at him. “What day is it?”

“It’s been six days,” Steve says, still standing there.

“Six days, okay,” Tony says, nodding. It could have been a month, a year, seven minutes. It feels like a mini-victory to know, finally. “I can work with that.”

Steve closes the distance between them then, and actually kneels down right in front of Tony. Tony stares at him, a little aghast at the closeness, and yeah, looking at him, he can see his side of the battle now, too. And it seems all too real.

“You need to snap out of this, Stark,” Steve says, and he sounds like a teacher, like all the ones with stern brows and too many expectations, all the ones that made Tony leave. But now, Tony listens. “We—I know you wanna fix this. We wanna fix this too.”

“Oh, are all of you assembled?” Tony asks. 

“We’re in Wakanda,” Steve says. “And you need to be there too.”

Tony sighs, listening to the rattle of his heart. It sounds like an old car, or a sinking ship, and sometimes he wonders if he’s going to fade away too, a little late, with a little more pain, because somehow that’s apt for the ending of Tony Stark. 

Steve reaches out and touches his shoulder, and Tony tries not to wince away. It feels like a burn, but it makes the panic subside, if only for a moment. “I know what’s going on in that head of yours,” Steve says.

Tony closes his eyes. He just doesn’t have the fucking energy. “This is just—this is big, this is bigger than anything we’ve ever faced, and of course, _of course_ I just so happen to suffer this horrific loss that feels like it’s knocked my legs out from under me—you know, it sucked, it _sucked_ watching the others go, Quill, Strange, the other two—but—seeing—” He sucks in a breath, digging his fingers into his eyes, and Steve’s grip only gets stronger. “Losing the kid has been a technicolor nightmare of mine since a couple weeks after meeting him, and it’s just—” _It’s killing me._

“I know what you mean,” Steve says, clearing his throat. “I know, I—I get it.”

Tony nods. He knows he does.

“That’s why this is unacceptable,” Steve says, and he wipes at his eyes so fast that Tony barely catches it, but he’s been scrubbing away his own tears so much for the past couple days that he doesn’t mistake the motion. “This is on us and we’re capable of fixing it and that’s what we’re going to do.”

_Mr. Stark, I don’t feel so good—_

“Tony,” Steve says, stern again, and Tony looks at him. “We’re gonna get them back. Do you wanna get the kid back?”

Then the fear breaks like a fever and it sorta feels like Steve cracked his skull open. Determination rises up and boils over. Does he want to get the kid back? Right now there’s nothing else he wants. Then why is he sitting here? It feels so obvious and he feels idiotic. The last couple days rush out of the fog and his embarrassment colors his cheeks and floods down his chest. “Yes,” he says, simply. “I wanna—I wanna get the kid back.”

“Then get up,” Steve says. “Get up, come with me. We will figure this out. We will.”

Tony doesn’t know how they’re gonna figure out death on this level, with so many lives—half the universe—relying on them. But Tony thinks of the kid. Of the gaping hole that was blown in his life six days ago. As difficult as this shit might be, and he knows those levels are astronomical, they’ve gotta try. No, they’ve gotta _succeed_. Fuck, they’ve gotta do this. He can’t let this shit slide. He can’t let it stick. He can’t let the kid down when he needs him most. 

In his last moments, Peter turned to Tony, grabbed onto him, hoping against all hope that he was the man he’d always looked up to. And Tony wants to be that guy. The guy that Peter always saw when he looked at him, despite all evidence to the contrary.

“Okay,” Tony says. 

“Okay?” Steve asks.

“Okay,” Tony says, nodding, trying to psych himself up. “Help me up, but go slow, I’ve been in this position for way too long—I feel like my legs might give out if I move the wrong way. Prepare for an onslaught of bone cracking, and don’t judge me.”

“I wouldn’t,” Steve says, a small smile on his face, taking Tony’s hand. 

Everything hurts and he groans as he straightens back up, the light from his desk lamp hitting Steve’s face so Tony can finally get a good look at him. He doesn’t really know what the hell to say at this point now that they’ve gotten past all the life and death shit. He clears his throat as Steve lets go of his hand. 

“Nice to see you,” Tony says, voice pinched, “beard and all. I’m glad I don’t have to carry that flip phone around anymore, it was really dragging me down. Even when people couldn’t see it, I knew it was there.”

Steve shakes his head at him. “It’s good to see you too, Tony.”

Tony thinks he might actually mean it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, um, this movie ripped my heart out and I had to do something. I've been trying to figure out what in the hell kinda sciencey shit they're going to pull out to fix this MAJOR ISSUE OF A BUNCH OF FAVES BEING DEAD and it's driving me insane. I can tell you this is mostly gonna be moments and not super plotty, although I will be entertaining some of my ideas in here. We're gonna be in Tony and Steve POVs, as well as Peter and Bucky :) I plan to FIX this horrid mess (I did love the movie but I also can't wait a year for reunions lol) and it will probably be Steve/Bucky but nothing too involved because I want to keep this on the Gen end. Mostly focused on my fave dynamic, the father/son duo of Tony and Peter. Let me know what y'all think!


	2. Chapter 2

Peter Parker is definitely not on the alien planet anymore. 

He doesn’t exactly feel like he’s anywhere. It feels like one of those really long sleeps, where he’s been in bed for hours past noon on a Sunday and Aunt May is finally done with his crap, banging on the door like there’s a fire or something. One of those sleeps where he ate too much popcorn the night before and had way too much soda and probably spent too much time swinging from building to building before or after or in between those things.

But it’s worse than that. He doesn’t feel good. He tries not to think too hard about being stuck under tons of rubble but it comes to him all the time anyway, and this feels like that. Trapped. His entire body aching. Close to panic. Close to something else, like he might pass out or something any second. He definitely doesn’t wanna pass out, because he has no idea where he is. Not good. Mr. Stark definitely warned against passing out in random back alleyways, and Peter got a stern look when he claimed he’d thought of that already. Mr. Stark seems to pick and choose the moments when he trusts him, and half the time he assumes that Peter has never had a normal day in his life. Like he’s never eaten before or gone on a date or stayed out past his curf—

Mr. Stark.

Peter’s whole body tenses and shudders when the memories come flooding back, and the fear grips him in a vice. He feels everything then, all the aches and pains and he grabs his own hands to make sure they’re still there—he’s not dust, he’s not, he’s not, he’s not coming apart, he’s here, he’s in one piece, he’s in one piece—

He opens his eyes. It’s darkness. A really deep advanced kind of darkness that drips through him and feels like it has his own kind of weight, hanging over him. He’s trying not to panic. 

“Okay,” he whispers. “Okay, okay.” He sucks in a breath through his nose and out through his mouth, like Mr. Stark taught him that time when they talked about panic attacks. Oh God, Mr. Stark thinks he’s dead. Aunt May has no idea where he is. God, God—she could be dust too. No, he doesn’t wanna think about that. He can’t. She’s fine, she’s gotta be. Is dust dead? Does this mean he’s dead? He never thought heaven would be darkness—no way, this can’t be hell, he definitely doesn’t deserve to be in hell. 

He doesn’t wanna be dead.

Peter keeps breathing. He’s breathing, so he’s alive. Or maybe he’s projecting. Do souls breathe? Do you still get to breathe in the afterlife? Dammit, he does not want to be dead. He can’t be. He remembers how it felt, eating up his body like a hoard of fire ants, and he had to watch the others go and he knew he was next, he knew, he could feel it, and if anyone could have stopped it, it was Tony, and shit, Peter feels bad for how he acted. He probably scared him to death but Peter was so terrified…and apparently, for good reason. He’s…well, he doesn’t know if he’s dead, but he’s definitely gone. He’s gone.

He wonders if Mr. Stark is here too. He’s afraid to move, and he knows he’s lying on solid ground but there could be evil things hanging around in the darkness waiting for him. Thanos must have more henchmen, definitely. They’re probably here ready to knock him out of it for good. He’s weak, like a sitting duck. They’d smash him in no time.

He reaches up a trembling hand and finds the pulse in his neck. Okay, he can’t be dead if he has a pulse, and he definitely has one slamming against the side of his throat. Then where is he? He doesn’t want to think of Mr. Stark turning to dust like he did but he really wishes he was here to help him figure this shit out. But the others aren’t here, so Peter doesn’t know why he’s thinking like that.

But he can’t see. It’s too dark. He thought the bad guys could be hanging around in the darkness, maybe the good guys are too?

He keeps breathing, trying to calm himself down. He feels way out of his league here. It’s bad enough he went to space. He didn’t even get to enjoy it. He’s been dreaming about space his whole damn life and somehow he manages to die out in space? It’s so annoying. He didn’t even get to make one Star Wars joke or send a selfie to Ned or explore anything except Thanos’s gross ass planet.

Maybe that line of thought is making him more upset than calm. He covers his eyes with his hands and definitely doesn’t want to be crying again. He left the universe crying like a little kid and he really hates that—hates it because he looks weak, hates it because he knows it’s probably gonna be nightmare fuel for Mr. Stark if he made it and Peter really doesn’t want to do that to him. But, he also doesn’t wanna be dead.

“You’re not dead, Spiderman,” he says to himself, still trying to even out his breathing. “Chill out, just _chill out_. You’re just on—a dark world. The darkness world.” He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head. Dumb. 

He needs to center himself, he needs to just—relax. He closes his eyes again, like it makes any difference anyway. He tries to imagine he’s in bed—like that time he got the blackout curtains before he started missing school—he’s just sleeping, blackout curtains, after a long night patrolling. That’s it. He’s waking up but he’s still laying there, because May isn’t harassing him yet and nothing’s happening. He’s definitely not dead or dust or causing Mr. Stark nightmares or in some evil dark world. Just—in bed. Definitely that’s all.

He feels like he hears whispering. Whispering really far away. He tries to hone in on it. “Karen?” he asks, because he’s definitely wearing the suit, but there’s no answer. He needs his mask anyway. Extra dumb. He sighs, and listens closer. 

He knows there are other people here. He can sense it. It feels like a lot of them. And not just how New York feels like a lot, because it does, but this feels like…a lot a lot. Like a whole, whole ton. It’s almost scary—no, no, it is scary. This whole thing is scary. For a minute he feels like he has every right to panic and start screaming and thrashing around and calling for May, calling for Tony, calling for Uncle Ben and people who haven’t been able to hear him for a long time. 

But he can’t do that. It’s pointless, and he’s—he’s Spiderman. He’s gotta be better than that, he’s gotta—if there are people here, he needs to figure out how to help them.

He’s gotta get back. It’s like—it’s essential. 

He tries to listen. He listens and listens and focuses and just about loses his damn mind trying to hear them, feel them, figure out how close they are, if they’re bad, if they’re good, how far, how big this whole area is. It feels limitless. Finally he gets to his feet, slowly, so slowly, his hands shaking even though he’s really willing them not to, extended as far out to his sides as they can.

“Hello?” he says, sounding really small. He clears his throat and tries to puff out his chest. “Hello?” he says, deeper now, kinda like the interrogation mode in his suit, but not as bad. 

Nobody answers. 

He takes a couple steps forward. Still dark, still nothing, still incredibly horrifying and frustrating. He’s afraid they’re all gone. Afraid they’re all trapped here, somewhere, separated in this ridiculous black hellscape. Peter groans, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. He knows if Tony made it, if Tony stayed alive and didn’t turn to dust, that he’s going to find him. Peter knows he will. No matter where this is, how far away, he knows _he knows_ Tony is coming. 

He just doesn’t know how long it’ll take for him to get here. 

Peter rubs his hand over his chest and up over his throat. No more panicking, no, no, no more panicking. He’s totally not alone, he just needs to figure out how to make contact with whoever else is here. He knows of at least four other people that are definitely here somewhere, and Dr. Strange would for sure be a good one to find. He could probably rip a hole in this place and—

He feels a pain in his head and winces, stumbling back a little, clutching at his temple. It’s sharp and deep, like something digging into his brain. Tears spring to his eyes and he can’t think, at all and then—it’s gone. Only a dull ache, almost like it never happened. 

“What—”

But he doesn’t get to finish that sentence before he hears it.

“ _The kid had—has—shitty taste in pizza_ ,” Tony’s voice says. “ _He liked anchovies, first clue, and he’d never really commit to pineapples but always kinda acted like he wanted them. Ridiculous, over the top look on his face whenever we were ordering pizza like it was the most difficult decision in the world._ ”

Peter is literally going to have a heart attack. Tony isn’t _here_ but his voice is in Peter’s head, like literal Stark Radio, full surround sound. Peter pounds on his head because—he doesn’t have a reason. It seems like the right thing to do.

“ _You would_ ,” Tony says, and Peter can’t hear who he’s talking to.

“Mr. Stark!” Peter yells. And then there’s silence. Peter doesn’t know if that means Tony’s stopped talking or the connection is gone or what, but Peter can’t have that, he can’t, he’s gotta reach him. So he yells. As loud as he can. “Tony! Tony! It’s me! It’s Peter! Help me, I’m somewhere—really weird—I’m not dead! It’s dark—ugh—I need help! Can you hear me?”

More silence. More and more and more. Peter covers his eyes and tries to suppress a sob.

“ _Steve_ ,” Tony’s voice says. Peter looks up, his heart rattling, and he nearly jumps for joy.

“Tony!” Peter yells. “It’s not Steve, it’s Peter! Peter Parker! I can hear you! Can you hear me?”

“ _Steve, stop—stop walking. I’m having an episode._ ”

Peter narrows his eyes. He didn’t really consider how Tony might be hearing him, if he was able to hear him, and if he’s hearing him the same way that Peter is hearing _him_ , then….then he might think he’s going crazy. Why doesn’t Peter think _he’s_ going crazy? Probably because he’s stuck in a dark void. Yeah, probably that. Of course the first thing he’s gotta hear is Mr. Stark insulting his taste in pizza.

“You’re not—you’re not crazy!” Peter yells. “It’s me, it’s really me! I’m alive! I’m in the dark, please help me!”

“ _I’m gonna be sick—_ ”

“No, no, no!” Peter yells. He’s throwing his hands up like Tony is some all-seeing God hovering somewhere above him. “You’re fine, Mr. Stark, you gotta listen to me!”

He doesn’t hear anything else and Peter sighs. This is insane. He doesn’t know what to do.

“ _I’m, uh—I’m hearing the kid’s voice in my head_ ,” Tony says. 

“This. Is. Real!” Peter yells, his heart beating faster and faster. “Please, I don’t know why you can hear me, but it’s me—I swear it’s me, Mr. Stark, it’s me! Please!”

“ _No_ ,” Tony says. “ _No, he’s—he’s saying new things—Rogers, you think this is real?_ ”

Tony and Steve are together, in the same place. Both alive. Oh shit. “Mr. Stark, I literally just said it’s real!” Peter says. “I can hear everything you’re saying, oh my God, please—listen to me, it’s me, it’s me, it really is—not dead. Just lost. I need help.”

Peter hears Tony gasp, and he can almost see his face if he closes his eyes and thinks hard enough. 

“ _This is ridiculous, no—there’s—_ ”

Peter doesn’t know what to do, how to convince him. He sucks in a breath, hanging his head. “Please, don’t—don’t give up on me.”

More silence. It sounds deadly and matches the dark perfectly and Peter wants to punch a wall and scream into a pillow and he doesn’t know what the hell to do. 

And then he hears it. 

“ _Pete?_ ” Tony asks, voice softer than it was. “ _Is…_ ” he laughs a little bit, incredulous. “ _Is it—shit, I’ve officially gone off the deep end—kid, is that really you?_ ”

Peter’s face splits into a grin, and a ripple of light runs through everything, everywhere around him. He spins around, trying to look at it all, while he can—complete and utter void, absolutely nothing—and Peter almost thinks he sees a figure in the distance before everything goes dark again. His heart is beating way too fast. “Yeah, Mr. Stark,” he says, his breath catching in his throat. “It’s me and…I really need you to help me get out of here.”


	3. Chapter 3

When it hit him, what had happened, Steve couldn’t move. He didn’t know the full extent of it yet, but he knew people were gone. He knew Bucky was gone. A bitterly familiar feeling, and he felt smaller, somehow, now that he’s watched the one thing that made him feel the most human fade away. Right out of existence. If only Steve had been a little bit faster, when Buck said his name. Maybe he could have gotten there. To be there, if nothing else.

No one else was moving, either. He could hear Natasha breathing, could almost hear her thinking, trying to work through it. Rhodes was talking to Bruce in hushed tones, Steve couldn’t hear them. His mind was blank. He met Thor’s eyes and he saw deep shame there, confusion, everything that he felt, too.

“Guys,” Rhodes said. “This—it happened everywhere. Everywhere, people—Jesus, they’re just—they’re just—turning to ash, they’re gone. It’s happening everywhere.”

“We have to—get a head count,” Steve said, his voice coming out weak. “Uh—everyone that was with us. The armies, T’Challa—”

“King T’Challa is gone,” a voice said, and when Steve turned he saw General Okoye standing there, tears in her eyes. “Vanished.”

It was another blow. He hung his head, tried to think. “Okay, we have to—regroup. We need to locate Stark, see if—see if he made it.”

“I’ll contact him again,” Rhodes said. 

“And the rabbit,” Thor said, breathing a little harder. “He had—his friends. They were helping, too, we need to try to find them.”

Steve wasn’t one hundred percent sure what he was referring to, but he nodded, anyway.

“Steve?” Natasha’s voice said. She put a hand on his shoulder, but he could feel her shaking too. He tried to steel himself, gritting his teeth. He remembered how Bucky said his name. Just minutes ago, then. 

“I’m getting up,” Steve had said. But it took him a moment—he didn’t feel too steady on his feet anymore.

It hit him hard when he found out that Sam was gone, too. Steve had insisted on looking himself, combing through the forest until finally, finally, Rhodey’s voice in his ear told him to call it. 

He was tired of calling it. Tired of losing friends. Both of them, gone. T’Challa, gone. Wanda and Vision, gone. Even Groot was gone. He could have never imagined something like this. A loss this massive. None of them could stop Thanos. And he took, and took, and took until they were crippled. Broken by being left behind.

Steve kept to himself over the next few days, touching base with the rest of them when they came looking for him. No one could get a hold of Tony, and he’d left a few messages himself. He thought that would probably keep Tony from calling back at all, if he’d made it. Steve knew he was capable of holding a grudge, even after the end of the world, but he hoped he’d snap out of it. They hadn’t found Rocket’s team yet either, though they did make contact with Scott Lang, who’d suffered a few losses of his own.

Steve watched the Wakandans mourn and tried to keep his balance, tried to stay out of their way. T’Challa’s sister made it, his mother too, though the pain in their eyes was almost too much to swallow. Shuri went to all the meetings, verbally sparring with Bruce over what was possible and what wasn’t. 

_My brother has come back from the dead before, Doctor Banner_ she had said. _I do not accept this as the end._

Steve called Tony. He called him three more times. He tried to stay out of his own head, until Natasha traipsed into his room without knocking, a bright red apple in her hands. 

“Made contact with Clint,” she said, putting the apple on the table in front of Steve. He’d missed breakfast that morning, and she’d clearly noticed. He knew she had been watching him, but he also knew there was nothing he could do about it. 

“He’s alright?” Steve asked, looking up at her. Every time they found out someone else was gone, it felt like it chipped away at something inside him. He wasn’t sure if it was his heart, his brain, his will go to on. He was trying to maintain composure. But it all felt so insurmountable. Ghosts had been surrounding him his whole life, but they would come and go. He could push them away, focus on something else. Now, Bucky was everywhere. That last little plea. The look in his eyes. Steve replayed the moment over and over, and he knew he’d heard Bruce mention time travel. How many times in his life had he longed for such a thing? He needed it. Needed it like breathing.

He needed more strength. A second chance to best Thanos, stop all this in its tracks before it had a chance to take hold. His mistakes were in his blood, poisoning him. This one was a full blown disease.

“He is,” Natasha said, clearing her throat. “But—Laura and the kids—”

“No,” Steve had said, before he meant to. “Not all of them?”

“All of them,” Natasha said, stony-faced. 

Steve felt dizzy. He rubbed at his temples and tried to breathe. 

“Bruce believes there might be…avenues,” Natasha said. He looked at her and he could tell there was an avalanche of emotions she was keeping back. “To fix this,” she said. 

“There must be,” Steve said. He sucked in a breath. “I don’t want to—I don’t want to believe that those—those were deaths.”

She looked at him sideways.

“I don’t want to believe it,” Steve repeated. “I’ve learned in the past—no body, there’s room to—question it.” He wished he could look at Bucky then, to have it confirmed. 

Natasha nodded, blowing out a sigh. They were quiet for a minute or so, and Steve looked down at the tablet Shuri had given him. All the hell of the world in glaring relief. It was a nightmare.

“Are you—holding up?” Natasha asked. “I’ve noticed you only come around at the last minute, like you know we’re wondering—”

Steve sighed then. He couldn’t stop focusing on the magnitude of the loss. He needed to fix it, more than anything, but he knew all this was in its infancy, and he was afraid of the talks, the plans, the arguments, the tests, the strain it would put on all of them. He was afraid of the doubt. It would be easy, to give up. His terror, the hole in his heart—he didn’t want to bring one ounce of doubt anywhere near Banner while he was so dead-set.

“We’re all feeling this,” Natasha said. “I know—I understand, what’s going on in your head. And none of it is wrong.”

He nodded. 

“Just because you’re not optimistic every minute doesn’t mean you’re going to tear everybody down,” Natasha said. “We need you. You’re fine as you are.”

Steve took a moment. “It’d feel like a win, if we could hear about Stark.”

She nodded. “I hope he made it,” she said. “Pepper too.” She watched him for a few long moments. “If he did—this would be a good time for you two to kiss and make up.”

Steve rolled his eyes, sparing her the first real smile in days. “Doubt he’d be up for it.”

“Banish the doubt,” she said. “You’re both smart, and this is beyond all that.”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “It is.” He took a bite of the apple.

He got the call from Pepper two hours after that. And three more hours after that, he was on his way to go get Tony. It filled Steve with new life, to know Tony made it, and it set him on his course to do what Natasha suggested. No more doubt. They were going to solve this, no matter what that meant. 

But Steve hadn’t prepared to find out about the Spider kid. He’d heard about Tony’s fondness for him, how he’d taken him under his wing, and Pepper’s eyes were teary when she told Steve about it, mourning him and mourning what his loss had taken away from Tony. It terrified Steve, seeing Tony like that, cowering in his office. It reminded him of more mistakes that both of them made, and made together. But like Natasha said, this is beyond all that. He tried his hardest to snap him out of it, all the while thinking of what they were both working for. Tony needed to get the kid back. And Steve needed to get Bucky. Get his friends. The whole world needed saving, but they had their representatives in their heads. The faces they were fighting for. 

Steve doesn’t allow himself to think past getting them back. Things he might say, things he might do, things he’s been putting off for too long. Things that make his heart rattle and his chest go warm with anxiety and something else he doesn’t name. So he doesn’t allow himself to think of anything else but righting the wrong their mistakes made.

He got Tony out of there.

Tony insisted that Pepper come with, probably scared to let her out of his sight again, and after about twenty minutes of arguing she agreed, if one can agree in the least agreeable way possible. Steve understood wanting to keep the company on its feet, but Tony didn’t give a shit anymore. He grabbed Happy too, and let Steve lead the way. 

Tony Stark’s silence was almost more frightening than everything else. It made it real, to see the losses personified in him. The awkwardness was still there between them too, but Steve didn’t want to accept that. It didn’t mean anything anymore. 

He’d heard reports about helicopters and planes going down after Thanos snapped his fingers and ended the world, so he felt solid in his decision to fly the jet himself there and back. Part of him worried about aftershocks, about being a day late and a dollar short again, for the thousandth time in his life, but he doesn’t fade away. 

Tony sits beside him and looks like he’s wondering about it, too. 

“What am I walking into?” Tony asks, briefly glancing back at Pepper and Happy, who are in a deep conversation that Steve can’t hear. “Is it a cry fest? I know we’ve all gone off the deep end but I don’t think I can deal with everybody crying all at once. I’ll start crying and then we’ll all be crying and then we’ll never get anything done.”

“We aren’t letting our emotions get the best of us,” Steve says. “We’re…trying to stay focused.”

“Trying, key word,” Tony says. He shifts in his seat and sighs. “I’ve never been here. Wakanda. But Dad had, and coming here now—well, it feels like something.”

“Like what?” Steve asks.

Tony shakes his head. Steve doesn’t look at him for too long, but he keeps glancing over, trying to find the meaning there. “Like something,” Tony says, with a lot left unspoken.

Shuri seems to take to Tony right away. She lights up in his presence, starts talking about plans, eager to involve him. Tony seems baffled by her, just lets her talk, watches her closely, occasionally cutting his eyes over to Steve. 

“I think—I know somebody who you’d probably get along with,” Tony says.

“Who?” Shuri says, smiling more than she has since her brother died.

“Well, he’s—he’s one of the ones we’re fighting for,” Tony says, pain in his voice. 

A cloud falls over Shuri then, and she nods. “Well,” she says. “Be sure to introduce him to both me and my brother when we set things back to normal.”

They set Tony, Pepper and Happy up in their own quarters, a couple doors down from where Steve is staying. Natasha hugs Tony for a lot longer than Steve was expecting her to, and he feels a hug welling up in his own self that he never allows to come to fruition. He doesn’t really express this, but he really does like hugs, and the idea of them. The rift between him and Tony seemed gigantic for a while, and just having him close now without coming to blows feels like some kind of miracle. He knows how Tony felt about Bucky. He knows what happened, relives it in his nightmares and in his waking hours too, and he knows it’s another thing that they share fifty fifty. Tony’s emotions got the better of him, he should have known, should have taken into account Bucky’s state of mind when the tragedy happened, that he wasn’t himself, but Steve should have told him. Should have told him as soon as he found out.

He doesn’t wanna think about these things, but he doesn’t want to think about Bucky disintegrating, either. Doesn’t want to think about his handprint in the ashes. Doesn’t want to think about anybody else they lost. His mind won’t let him rest.

That night he’s lying in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, when he hears a noise outside his door. He knows it’s probably Natasha, as she tends to hover around until he’s ready to come out. He gets up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed with a mind not to keep her waiting this time, and when he opens the door he sees Tony in sweats, hurrying away.

“Tony?” Steve asks, thoroughly confused.

“Nope,” Tony says. “I was—absolutely not knocking on your door.”

“Were you—standing outside it?” Steve asks.

“No,” Tony says, swinging around and facing Steve. “No, I was just—pacing in the hallway. Didn’t wanna disturb Pepper, and I wasn’t—looking at any particular door. I wasn’t trying to wake you up, Cap, you can—stand down, it’s three in the morning, I’m gonna—”

“You wanna take a walk?” Steve asks. 

Tony just looks at him. It feels like a challenge as well as an offer, like the answer is to get Tony to admit he was looking for help, and looking for it in the form of Steve. Tony makes a face, a very Tony face, a face that makes Steve’s heart constrict for times past, and then he nods.

“Sure,” Tony says. “If you like—need to stretch your legs. I’m already out here.”

They walk. And Steve, who can’t talk about Bucky, can hardly say his name without crumpling to the ground, asks Tony about the kid. Hoping for better results. 

Tony laughs. “Well, he’s a mess,” he says. His brows furrow, like he isn’t sure about his tenses, and Steve wants to stop that train of thought in its tracks before it can do any damage.

“He seems like a smart kid, from what I’ve heard,” Steve says. Pepper filled him in on some details, and he did some research after everything calmed down. He was surprised that Tony brought a teenager into battle with him, which made him think there was something else to the whole thing. Sure, he wanted to have a ‘winning team’, which was a very Tony Stark thing to do, but Steve figured his interest in this kid was more than what he could do.

“Yeah, he was—he’s smart,” Tony says. “In his little special school, always yammering on about things he’s inventing—he came up with some really cool shit, he invented his own web shooters, the prototype was—beyond something I could have ever come up with at his age. It was insane.”

Tony looks at him then, like Steve is seeing something he shouldn’t. But he keeps talking. “Him and his aunt, I’d have them come stay with me sometimes,” he says. “At the compound, at the tower—which I still haven’t been able to sell off, by the way, fucking real estate—but, uh, it was—really nice having the kid around. He’d spend time with me in the lab, he’d help me with the suits. I tried not to let his head blow up too big when he came up with something amazing, which he did—a lot.”

“Did you ever let him be a kid?” Steve asks. He doesn’t know if it’s harsh—it might sound a little harsh—but Tony is smiling. 

“Yeah, let him,” Tony scoffs. “Oh, did I let him. I indulged that kid. I watched all the goddamn Star Wars movies with that kid when May wouldn’t. In a row. In the order he wanted to watch them. We made Wookie cookies, Rogers. We had Yoda Soda. Did I let him be a kid? Yes, and then some. I’ve pulled all-nighters and been kidnapped and held hostage and I’ve never felt so damn tired after The Force Awakens ended. I felt like I didn’t know who the hell I was anymore.”

Steve snorts. It’s quiet, where they’re walking, and it fills Steve with a certain kind of calm, knowing the others are sleeping. Even Thor, who is always so full of rampage, so full of life. Rocket has been staying in his room with him in the extra bed, since they convinced him not to take off on his own. Sometimes, Steve could hear them commiserating at all hours through the hallway wall.

Tony has a faraway look on his face. “The kid had—has—shitty taste in pizza,” he says. “He liked anchovies, first clue, and he’d never really commit to pineapples but he always kinda acted like he wanted them. Ridiculous, over the top look on his face whenever we were ordering pizza like it as the most difficult decision in the world.”

Steve laughs. He likes the tone of Tony’s voice when he’s talking about Peter. It’s definitely him at his most human. It feels like a sign for a better future, and Steve tries to hold onto it. “I like pineapples on my pizza,” he says. 

Tony laughs, raising an eyebrow at him. “You would.”

They keep walking, the garden and beyond laid out lush and beautiful outside the window, with no indication of what went on here a little over a week ago. “I went through a period where I’d put everything on my pizza,” he says. “Started out with just pepperoni. Moved up to pepperoni and mushrooms—then I added pineapples, and then spinach. Spinach really took it to a whole new level—”

“Steve,” Tony says.

Steve looks at him, fast. The tone of his voice gives him away, but the look on his face is worse. “What’s wrong?” Steve asks.

Tony skids to a halt a little behind him. He seems to be listening to something, but Steve can’t tell what. He can’t hear anything. It’s all quiet. “Steve, stop—stop walking, I’m having an episode.”

Steve does and turns back quickly, latching one hand around Tony’s elbow. “What’s happening, Tony?” he asks, his heart in his throat. He isn’t sure he’s ready to deal with whatever’s happening, and he isn’t sure he’s capable. 

Tony closes his eyes tight and he’s trembling. He shakes his head, jerks it, sucks in a breath. 

“What’s going on?” Steve asks. “Should I go get—”

“I’m gonna be sick—” Tony breathes, covering his mouth with one hand and grabbing onto the railings beside him with the other. 

“Talk to me,” Steve pleads. “Or I’m gonna go get—a doctor, or Pepper. Shuri, anybody. Bruce. They could help you. Just—tell me what’s happening.”

Tony opens his eyes and they’re wide, full of panic. “I’m, uh—I’m hearing the kid’s voice in my head.”

Steve’s blood goes cold. He stares at him for a moment. He remembers how he used to hear Bucky, in all the years they were apart. He knows he heard him in the ice, even though he can’t remember anything from that time. Just floating—darkness—and Bucky’s voice. But all the time in between then and now, he heard that voice—normal things, advice, things he’d said before. He can’t imagine what this is with Tony—he clearly loves this kid, thinks of him like his own child, and this could be some terrible mourning ritual that Steve is all too familiar with. 

But their lives have been full of impossible things. Including their current situation. The overarching one and the more personal one of the two of them standing here together in their pajamas. 

“What is he saying?” Steve asks, simply. “Things he’s said before?”

Tony shakes his head. He seems to listen again, but not to Steve. “No, he’s saying new things—” He gives Steve a look, wary of him. “Rogers, you think this is real?”

Steve’s heart rattles. He tries to stay clear, in charge of himself. He tries not to be too optimistic but goddamn, he’s seen some things in his life, and this is definitely not the most insane thing he’s seen. “Tony—it could—it could be him. Jesus, maybe—maybe—they’re not gone, they’re somewhere else, and Peter’s made a connection with you—”

Tony shakes his head, gasping. “This is ridiculous, no—there’s—”

“Tony,” Steve asks, and he watches Tony’s face. It falls, he looks horrified, but hopeful too. “Tony, you gotta—this isn’t the time for doubt. I know you’re not crazy. Please, just—”

Tony’s eyes snap up to meet Steve’s and he blows out a breath. He rights himself on his feet and runs his hands over his face, breathing hard. He steps out a little, past Steve, eyes darting around. “Pete?” he asks, voice soft. “Is…” He laughs, shaking his head. “Is it—shit, I’ve officially gone off the deep end—kid, is that really you?”

Steve watches him. He watches Tony laugh, watches as he turns around with tears in his eyes. 

“Fuck, Steve—this is the kid, I think I believe it, it feels—yeah, Peter—”

“He’s still talking to you?” Steve asks. 

“Yeah,” Tony says. “He’s…” He trails off, listening. “He remembers everything, what happened…he’s somewhere really dark and he’s alone…for now, he says. Shit.” Tony starts breathing harder and Steve can almost feel his panic. This changes the game. If Peter is somewhere, then they all are. Then Bucky is. 

“Kid, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

“What’s he saying?” Steve asks, breathing through his mouth. “No one—no one else is there?” 

“No one is close to him, but he thinks he might have seen somebody—farther away,” Tony says. “Jesus Christ, kid—I can’t believe this. Holy shit, Peter. Talk to me, talk to me, keep talking.”

Steve closes his eyes. He feels dizzy. It’s a break in the case. It’s small, it’s insane, it’s outrageous, and maybe’s he’s out of his mind for believing Tony. Maybe Tony’s lost it. But fuck, it’s hope. They’ve dealt with crazier. 

Then his mind goes blank. Not the kind of blank he’s been forcing on himself, but a stagnant silence, almost serene, as if it’s making way for something. And then a voice fills up every part of him. A voice he’d know anywhere. “ _…and if you were here right now, you’d probably be racing up and down the whole damn place trying to find an exit. Well, Steve, I don’t think there’s an actual way out anywhere, but I think if I could hear your voice, it might—it just might—make me take a couple more steps into this dark hell that’s all around me. You know, in the brave way. Jesus, this is literally the shittiest place on the earth. Well. I really doubt I’m on earth. Hell, who knows._ ”

Steve is frozen. Steve is broken. Steve is two seconds away from a complete and utter breakdown. But that is. That is Bucky’s voice. 

He’s dizzy and he sways, looking up at Tony. His hearing goes high pitched and whining and he sees how animated Tony is, hugging his arms around his middle. He listens and there’s an echo of the voice he just heard. But no more words. 

“ _I think I saw somebody_ ,” Bucky’s voice says. “ _There was a—there was a light a little bit ago, it was fast. But fuck if I’m going anywhere near the guy—this whole place is like that haunted house we went through in Queens, you remember? Just more—_ ”

“Buck?” Steve asks, quiet.

No response. Steve trembles. 

“ _Uh—Jesus—am I losing it?_ ” Bucky asks. “ _Is—what—hello?_ ”

Steve covers his mouth with his hands, tears springing to his eyes. “Bucky?”

“ _Oh shit. Oh shit, oh shit. Steve?_ ”

“Yeah.”

“ _You can hear me?_ ”

“Yes,” Steve breathes. “Oh my God.”

“ _You’re in my head._ ”

“You’re in mine,” Steve says, his heart absolutely hammering. “Fuck, Tony,” he says, striding over to where Tony is.

“Steve, I’m talking to the kid—”

“ _Steve, you still hear me?_ ” Bucky’s voice asks, deep and tremoring through Steve’s bones.

“Yes,” Steve says. He doesn’t doubt it. Not for one second. “Don’t stop talking. I’m gonna—I’m gonna find you.”


	4. Chapter 4

Tony can’t keep up with anything that’s happening right now. He feels like he’s about to collapse—he never thought he’d hear the kid’s voice again, just in videos he couldn’t bring himself to watch, only on horrible anniversaries and when he’s in a particularly weepy mood—but now he’s in an unfamiliar hallway with Steve Rogers, and Peter Parker’s voice is in his head. 

“ _Yeah, Mr. Stark,_ ” Peter says. “ _It’s me and…I really need you to help me get out of here._ ”

It’s scary and it sounds really bad but Tony laughs out of panic, out of insanity, he doesn’t know anymore. He turns and looks at Steve—anxious for someone else to see this and hear it and understand it—even though he knows Steve can’t hear and see what’s in his fucking head, but still. 

“Fuck, Steve—this is the kid, I think I believe it, it feels—”

“ _Mr. Stark_?”

“—yeah, Peter?”

“He’s still talking to you?” Steve asks. 

“Yeah,” Tony says, his whole face burning hot.

“ _Mr. Stark, I don’t know what’s going on—I was there, with uh, with you—on the planet, disappearing, and then I woke up here—I don’t know where here is, but I remember everything—_ ”

Tony tries to concentrate, staring at Steve’s face, and it might be ironic if this is the thing that kills him, since he stood toe to toe with Thanos and survived, and also made it through his fucking mass genocide. “He remembers everything, what happened,” Tony says, with regret for those memories in Peter’s head, wherever Peter’s head may be. 

“ _I’m somewhere big and dark and I’m alone, for now…there was a flash of light right after I first heard you and I saw some other guy like, further away, so I’m sufficiently freaked out—_ ”

“…he’s somewhere really dark and he’s alone, for now, he says. Shit.” Tony’s breathing starts to gain speed, and he closes his eyes.

“ _Mr. Stark, I’m—ugh—it’s so dark, I can’t see shit, I don’t know if this guy is gonna come for me. Anything could happen, I don’t, I don’t know if I’m like…me, here, powers-wise—or if the suit is gonna protect me, I don’t know what to do—_ ”

Tony knows what a panic attack sounds like, he’s become intimately involved with them for the past couple years, and he wants to stop this one, fast. Peter has enough on his plate. 

“Kid, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” He tries to sound as calming as he can, even though alarms are going off in his head and he’s steps away from declaring himself completely insane.

“What’s he saying?” Steve asks, looking frazzled. “No one else is there?”

“ _I’m okay_ ,” Peter’s voice says. He sounds so young. “ _I’m okay._ ”

“No one is close to him, but he thinks he might have seen somebody—farther away,” Tony says, rubbing his face. He can feel the lack of sleep now, straining behind his eyes. He feels crazier than he normally would, more panicky and on edge, which is saying a lot, for him. Peter hasn’t said anything for a few moments and it makes Tony freak out a little bit. “Jesus Christ, kid—I can’t believe this. Holy shit, Peter. Talk to me, talk to me, keep talking.”

“ _Uh, uh, uh—I don’t know what to say. This is so weird and scary. You really believe it’s me? I mean it is me, I’m—me, but I just—I mean, you get that it’s me?_ ”

“Yes,” Tony says, without hesitating. “I don’t know—Peter, I don’t know how I know it, or how the hell you’re doing this—I don’t know, maybe I shouldn’t believe it—”

“ _No, you definitely should—_ ”

Tony smiles to himself, shaking his head. “I do,” he says. “This is the kind of shit you should question, for future reference, but—I know it’s you, I know it, it sounds…too much like you. I feel like, if it were my head or my hallucinations or whatever, you’d be making me feel a lot guiltier. You know…’never gave me anything, didn’t let me get ice cream that time, stopped me from hanging out with the cool kids’…” His mind provides other nice statements, like _you let me die, you let me suffer_ but Peter doesn’t actually say those things.

“ _No, no_ ,” Peter stammers. “ _No, don’t—no guilt, I’m here—well, not there, but you don’t need to feel—listen, how is this your fault? It’s not—_ ”

Tony shakes his head. “Just—you don’t need to be comforting me, here,” he says. He’s trying to think practically but somehow he feels even more at a loss now than he did ten minutes ago. “How—how are you, physically? You’re—are things the same as they were? All your fingers and toes? No new limbs or heads, right? Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it.” He’s pacing again, back and forth, back and forth.

“ _No, I’m—I’m all here, same me. Same injuries, do not—feel the best, but I guess that’s what happens—actually, it’s probably good, more evidence to not dead._ ”

Tony blows out a breath. He likes the not dead part, he likes that a lot. It makes him so happy he feels like he’s gonna pass out. But he doesn’t like the injured missing Peter trapped in darkness thing. Fuck, this—he thinks about it. Everyone who disappeared was wiped from the universe. So where the fuck is this kid? How are they talking right now?

“Not dead is good,” Tony says, that panic creeping up his throat. “Not dead is very good.”

“Fuck, Tony,” Steve says, walking over.

Tony shakes his head. “Steve, I’m talking to the kid—” He splutters because yeah, he sounds insane. 

“Yes,” Steve says, his eyes averted. “Don’t stop talking. I’m gonna—I’m gonna find you.”

“What’s that now?” Tony asks, cocking his head to the side. 

“ _Mr. Stark, you okay?_ ” Peter asks.

“Gimme one second, kiddo, Cap’s got a weird look in his eye—”

“ _So great you two are talking! He’s not dead! That’s awesome!_ ”

Good distraction, good, not scary thing for Peter to focus on, so that’s good.

“I’ve…I’ve got it too,” Steve says, breathless, pure joy in his eyes. “Bucky, I hear Bucky.”

Tony stares at him. For what feels like a goddamn lifetime. Steve is smiling, and Tony is sure they both look fucking manic right now. What the hell is happening? “Really?” he croaks.

“Really.”

“Holy. Shit.” Tony laughs, reaching up and grasping as his chest. “Is it contagious? Did I give it to you?”

“ _Is everything okay? You guys aren’t sick, right?_ ” Peter asks.

“No, Steve is…” Tony’s eyes bulge and Steve mimics him, and they’re probably both having a psychotic break and Tony is close to falling into panicked hysterics. But God, _God._ It’s too much. He can’t believe this. “Peter—that person you saw. Did you recognize them?”

“ _Uh, they were too far_ ,” Peter says.

“You think they’re together?” Steve asks, still breathing hard, and clearly following Tony’s line of thought. He looks off, listening. They both look insane. Absolutely insane. Tony keeps picturing Thor coming out here and seeing them like this and immediately attempting to join in. Shit, they’ve all got people to talk to on the other side—or wherever Peter is. How much is this fucking long distance call gonna cost? No matter what, it’s worth it.

“Maybe,” Tony says. “Probably. Hopefully. Shit, okay. Pete, one sec—”

“ _Okay, uh—not going anywhere._ ”

“Steve—break. I’m gonna—go find—that room at the end of the hall is still open right? The one they were trying to shove Rocket into before he and Thor became bunkmates? Oh, Peter. This raccoon. You’re gonna love this raccoon.”

“ _You got a raccoon?_ ”

“Yes,” Tony says. “Well, no. He’s his own man.”

“Yeah, the room’s still open,” Steve says. He looks off again and a little smile appears on his face. “Break?”

“Break,” Tony says, clapping his hands for emphasis. “Let’s do little interviews with the voices in our heads, get all our information—then we’ll tell everybody tomorrow and see if they try to tinker with our brains or if they actually believe us, hopefully the latter—don’t—tell them before you get with me, we need a united front.”

“Noted,” Steve says. Oh, how the times have changed.

Now. Tony has had a lot of tragedy in his life. It comes to him in phases but doesn’t let up—it sharpens its claws and locks in, digs out his weak spots and makes new ones. But this particular time—Thanos’s victory, Peter’s loss, the whole universe falling down the fucking gutter—it’s been a hard hitting, bitch of a situation that’s suffocated him, choking him to death. Slowly, tortuously, every day feeling like ten, every moment littered with reminders and pain and failure. He knows Steve feels it too—they all do—and no matter how much talking they’ve been doing, how many outlandish plans they’ve been putting on the table—it’s felt like darkness, like impossibility. Like they’re blind and deaf and mute and lost in the middle of a desert. 

This—this—Peter in his head—something that should make him feel absolutely insane, off his fucking rocker—this is hope. This is a small ray of sunshine that’s somehow lighting up the entire room, and Rogers has it too. They beam at each other, and Tony claps Steve on the shoulder as they both start down the hall and to their respective spaces, to have conversations that they were sure they’d never get to have again.

Tony slips into the empty room. “Peter?” he whispers, padding over to the bed and sitting on the edge of it. “You there, buddy?” _Please be there._

“ _Yeah_ ,” Peter says, surround sound. “ _Still here._ ”

“Jesus, kid, it’s so good to hear your voice,” Tony says, his eyes stinging. 

“ _Yours too_ ,” Peter says. “ _I’m sorry—_ ”

“Nope,” Tony says, immediately. “That’s the one thing that’s prohibited, sorry. That phrase is off the table.”

“ _Tony_ ,” Peter says, his voice small. “ _What—what happened?_ ”

Tony sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That big—purple asshole—he came here—Wakanda—after he moved on from us. Stood off against everybody, killed Vision, took the mind stone—he snapped his fingers and killed—well—dusted half the universe. We assumed those were deaths but—you guys are somewhere else.”

“ _We’re not dead_ ,” Peter says, but it turns up at the end, like he’s still not sure.

“You’re not dead,” Tony says, gripping his own knees. “Obviously—we’re having a nice chat right now and I haven’t ever spoken to anybody who’s dead. Not about to start now. I can’t pull off a very good Haley Joel.”

“ _Hah_.” There isn’t much feeling in it. Tony bets the kid’s exhausted. He’d tried to track the iron spider suit back home, but to no avail—it had no location, and read as off grid. He tries not to think too hard about that right now. He just wants to keep Peter calm. Which probably isn’t going to be the easiest feat, considering their current situation. “ _Tony—Aunt May—_ ”

So much for keeping him calm. Tony sighs again, cracking his jaw. “Listen,” he says. “She—she was—”

“ _She’s gone too, isn’t she?_ ” Peter asks, softly. “ _Dust_.”

Tony closes his eyes, shaking his head. He’s so not good at this. “It doesn’t mean anything. I promise. I’ve got you now, yeah? We’re gonna get her too. It’s just a hurdle. A big hurdle, yeah—but you’re not alone, where you are. You can sense it, right? You know there are other people there.”

Quiet. Stillness. Tony panics a little, rubbing his chest.

“Peter?”

“ _I don’t—I don’t want this to have happened—to her_ ,” Peter says, and his grief is loud. Tony can hear every hitch in his breath, and the idea of Peter crying alone in the dark is not doing wonders for Tony’s mental state. “ _God, it was—it was horrible, and I can’t—I can’t imagine—_ ”

“Breathe,” Tony says. “Come on, Pete, in through your nose and out through your mouth. You’re okay, you’re fine. It’s fine, she’s fine.”

“ _Why—why isn’t she—why isn’t she with me?_ ”

Tony has no goddamn idea but he’s good at making shit up on the fly, and this is a theory that’s been bouncing around in his head since Rogers said he could hear Barnes, too. Two impossible things in ten minutes. So everything is possible. “Okay—what I think—listen, you listening?”

“ _Listening._ ” He hiccups a little bit and Tony tries to focus. 

“I believe—I believe that person you saw? Off in the distance? Is Bucky Barnes.”

“ _Oh—the winter solider?? He’s here too?? Jesus! How many others did we lose??_ ”

“A lot,” Tony says, fast. “But—when I first heard you…a few minutes later, Steve heard Barnes in his head. Same deal. So I think—I believe—that he and I somehow have this weird—telepathic connection with the two of you, and that’s why you two are separate, wherever you are. Maybe you’re hanging around near the edge where the wifi’s best, I don’t know.”

“ _Wifi_ ,” Peter scoffs. 

“The place you are—Thanos is this crazy, evil megalomaniac—fuck knows what kind of place he dropped all of you—everyone could be around you but you just can’t see them, they could be behind a wall—anything. But I think you and Barnes are close to each other because of what you’re doing.”

“ _How are we doing this?_ ” Peter asks, sniffling a little bit. “ _Did you like—did you do something?_ ”

“No,” Tony says, tapping his feet on the cool tile floor. “Was just—swapping stories with Cap about how terrible your taste in pizza is.”

“ _I’m really, really happy you two are friends again,_ ” Peter says.

Tony rolls his eyes. “Yeah,” he says, and that’s it. He’s happy about it too but he’s not gonna like, talk about it. 

“ _And I need some, like—post mortem respect on the pizza front, okay? Pineapple is good, stop trying to embarrass me!_ ”

Tony laughs, tearing up. “First of all—don’t say post mortem in reference to yourself unless you want me to have a coronary. And second, as soon as you get back here, I’m gonna throw—the biggest party you’ve ever seen—and I’m gonna order sixteen pizzas, one for every year of your life, and they’re gonna be covered in pineapples.”

“ _Amazing_ ,” Peter says. “ _Let’s get a move on, I’m hungry. I bet everybody else is too._ ”

Tony sucks in a breath. “You gotta hang tight,” he says. “We’re gonna tear up the galaxy to find you guys. Even if we have to take everybody out one by one, we’re gonna fix what happened.” _But you’re first, Parker_ he doesn’t say. 

“ _This is gonna be hard_ ,” Peter says, with a sigh. He sounds defeated. “ _None of it makes sense._ ”

Tony opens his eyes and looks at the empty room. He thinks of things that might be possible. Maybe if he thinks about Peter hard enough, he’ll appear. He tries it and nearly gives himself an aneurism. 

“ _Tony?_ ”

“I’m here, sorry,” Tony says, grinding his teeth. “Uh—if what we’re doing, right now, is possible—then anything is possible. Full stop. I’m talking to you in my head, Pete, this isn’t walkie talkies, this isn’t new tech, this is—”

“ _Magic_ ,” Peter says.

“Yes,” Tony says. “The M word.”

“ _I’m glad it’s you that can hear me and not like—some random dude in like…Alaska or something. That woulda sucked._ ”

“Yes,” Tony says. “That definitely would have sucked.” He doesn’t say that this, them, was probably not a random thing. He doesn’t say that his feelings were like a beacon of light, sucking all the energy from the universe to him and the intensity of his pain. He doesn’t say that he was fighting against a world without Peter Parker with every fiber of his being, and maybe, just maybe, the universe decided to give him a break, for once. A precious chance, a small one, but bigger than anybody could imagine. He stops thinking. “You can’t hear my thoughts, right?”

“ _Uh—no, don’t think so. Can you hear mine?_ ”

Tony listens. “No.”

“ _Okay good because I purposely thought something you wouldn’t like. It’s not true but you still wouldn’t have liked it._ ”

Tony scoffs. “What?”

“ _Nothing. I’ll tell you when I get back._ ”

Optimism. Thank fuck. That’s the Peter he knows and loves. “Okay, I’m holding you to that,” Tony says. “No take backs, I’ll remember.”

They’re both quiet then. Tony doesn’t know what to say, what to do, feels like he still needs to protect Peter even though he has absolutely no dominion over what happens to him right now, as much as the thought kills him. 

“Peter,” Tony says. “You okay?” He doesn’t want him thinking too hard about this happening to May, too, and he definitely doesn’t plan on telling him about Ned.

“ _Much as I can be, I guess._ ”

“Listen, just—link up with Barnes, if you see him. So then you’ll have somebody with you, that should help, make things a little easier.”

“ _Okay, I’ll—yeah, I will._ ”

Tony cuts his eyes to the side. The silence is too thick, like Peter is planning on saying something. “For real, you okay?” Tony asks. “You can talk to me, you sound a little—”

“ _Mr. Stark I’m sorry I went out the way I did I’m sorry I’m sorry I didn’t mean to freak you out I’m sorry I hope it didn’t upset you too bad I don’t want my death to be on you like you said before don’t worry don’t worry—_ ”

Tony literally feels like he’s gonna fucking puke. He sways and has to brace one hand on the comforter beside him. “Peter,” he coughs. “Please—it’s fine. I swear to you—Jesus Christ, kid, I’m gonna have a stroke. No apologies, please—if anything, I’m the one that should be goddamn apologizing—you’re not dead, you’re—don’t—listen.” He’s rambling, almost slurring and he tries to re-center. He takes a breath. “What happened—your reaction. Perfectly normal. But that—and this—both major motivators for me. To fix things, to get you back, because the universe just isn’t right if you’re not in it. Tried it, doesn’t work for me. You wormed your way into my heart like the little slug you are and I’m not gonna let you go that easily.” 

Now he feels fucking exhausted. Any emotional expression like that makes him feel like he’s run a fucking marathon and his cheeks are scorching hot. “So—we’re gonna save the world, save everybody that dickhead took from us, and you’re gonna be back here annoying me soon and everything’s gonna be right as rain—you just gotta—hang tight. We’ll have another Star Wars marathon, we gotta do it with The Last Jedi this time.”

“ _Oh my god, really?_ ” Peter asks, excitedly.

Tony smiles. Jesus Christ. “I’m gonna regret this, but yes.”

“ _Ugh, I wish I was recording this conversation._ ”

“I’m not gonna renege, cool your jets.” This shit feels absolutely dire for a second and Tony desperately tries to keep it light. “Actually, this situation is really good for you—I can never tune you out. You’re like, really loud, bouncing off the inside of my skull. You could tell that crab story you love to tell and I’d have to listen.”

“ _You’ve heard that a hundred times._ ”

“That’s assuming I was actually listening.”

“ _You’re the worst sometimes._ ”

“I know, I’ve heard,” Tony says. “Kid, you should probably try to get some rest. I know time is a construct and all that—”

“ _What if this breaks?_ ” Peter asks. “ _I mean, what if—what if I go to sleep and then I wake up and I can’t talk to you anymore?_ ”

Tony hadn’t really considered it. It fills him with dread. And he has no idea, truthfully, which is why he’s glad Peter can’t read his thoughts. “No,” he says, definitively. “Nah, that’s not gonna happen. Sorry, we’re stuck with this forever. Until I die—”

“ _No, no, don’t talk about dying—_ ”

“I _mean_ when I die at one hundred and fifty, Peter. You think I plan on dying any time soon? You got another thing coming. Though when we get you back we gotta work on like, a mute button or something, I’m sure you aren’t gonna want me imposing my opinion whenever you’re like, doing whatever teenagers do, taking girls out, the works—”

“ _Okay_ ,” Peter sighs. He sounds defeated again and Tony is at a loss. He knows this will be easier to approach after a couple hours of sleep, but he hates the idea of leaving Peter alone. He can’t imagine what it’s like, where he is, and if Tony is sure of anything after witnessing Peter’s supposed last moments, he knows he’s just a kid. And he’s fucking terrified of losing this connection too. He can’t speak to what he’d do if his head is filled with silence again in the morning.

“You want me to talk to you until you fall asleep?” Tony asks. He looks behind him and lays down on his own bed, bracing his hands behind his head. “You know I’ve got plenty of stories.”

“ _Tony Stark is gonna tell me a bedtime story. Really?_ ”

Tony snorts at his snarky tone. “No one around to judge you, except maybe Barnes somewhere, and he can’t hear what’s in your head, anyway.” Tony hopes there’s no one else around Peter, unless it’s Strange or Quill or someone else they can trust. He’ll never forgive himself if he convinces the kid to go to sleep and he has to wake up fighting. God, he hopes it’ll be alright.

“ _Fine_ ,” Peter says. “ _But you know you have to go to sleep sometime, too. I know it’s late if you’re trying to make me go to sleep. What time is it?_ ”

“Doesn’t matter,” Tony says, looking at his watch. It’s about ten from four, and he knows Pepper is gonna report him missing if he doesn’t come back soon. He’s got his phone on him, so hopefully she’ll call before sending out a rescue party. “So—let me regale you with the time I learned that Natasha could lift my entire body weight without breaking a sweat.”

“ _You expect me to fall asleep to that?_ ” Peter exclaims. 

“Yes. Don’t worry, I could tell this one a thousand times, it’s one of my favorites.” 

Tony knows this situation is going to get serious—soon. Fuck, it’s serious already, but as soon as they tell the others it’s gonna move into hyper drive, after they lock him and Steve away and test their sanity. Everything is gonna be dedicated to finding the people they lost, and Tony is gonna have to watch his every word, since Peter is gonna be listening. He’s gotta be optimistic. At least out loud.

He sucks in a breath. “So, it was a stormy Saturday afternoon—”

“ _Real quick, Mr. Stark—_ ”

“Yeah?” Tony asks, nervous.

“ _I just—again, I’m—I just wanna say I’m so glad you can hear me. I’m so glad it’s you—I’m really glad._ ”

Tony closes his eyes tight, covering his mouth with his hands. His throat goes tight and he nods, ready to become a blubbering mess, but he can’t. He’s gotta stay strong for Peter. Until he’s got him back. Then he can collapse in a heap at the kid’s feet and cry as much as he wants. 

This feels like a precious fucking gift. He doesn’t deserve it—he didn’t deserve to even mentor Peter in the first place—but now that he’s been given this opportunity, he’s gonna do everything he can.

“Pete—you have no idea how happy I am that I can hear you, kid. After what the hell happened—shit. This is the best thing that could have happened to me.”

Peter Parker: semi-located. Next step: restore the universe. All in a day’s work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I saw Infinity War for the third time today, in IMAX this time, and the tears streaming down Tony's face at the end are going to haunt me forever. IT WAS WORSE ALL BIG AND LOUD AND 3D.


	5. Chapter 5

“Yeah, no,” Bucky says, smiling a little more than he should be for being in purgatory. He leans back, laying down, his second activity of the day. Pacing, jogging, laying down. Rinse, repeat. He’s been a man of routine for the last year, and it was finally a routine he’d chosen for himself, one he could fall into without error, without panic, without becoming something else.

But what Steve is suggesting is asinine. “No, I’m not doing that,” Bucky says. 

“ _Why? You might be able to find a wall—_ ”

“I’m not in some giant warehouse, Steve,” Bucky says, even though the place does smell musty, a little mechanical. “If I do a kick flip through the air, I’m gonna land on my ass, I’m not gonna find a wall.”

Steve sighs, exasperated. 

“Tell me about it,” Bucky says. 

“ _It can’t be infinite_ ,” Steve says. “ _There’s gotta be—_ ”

“Infinity stone, right?” Bucky asks. “Can definitely be infinite. This isn’t anything we’ve seen before.”

“ _Yeah. That’s what makes it so frustrating._ ”

“Was worse before I could hear you,” Bucky says, clearing his throat. “A lot worse.” 

It had made him feel better to pretend to talk to Steve, because he imagined answers. They were hopeful—gave Bucky something else other than darkness and silence. He replayed old conversations, tried to focus on old memories—ones he dug out of the recesses of his mind and dusted off, highlighted. He would close his eyes, hone in on the expressions on Steve’s face. The ones that made him feel real. That made him feel like James Buchanan Barnes.

But actually hearing him. Abruptly, shockingly. Legitimately—the real Steve. Real answers, not rehearsed. After what had happened, and all the imagining Bucky had been doing, he couldn’t believe it. But the differences were too stark. It was the Present Steve, and not the one that lived inside Bucky’s head. The Steve on the other side. The Steve where he’d left him behind. 

“ _Well, I’m here now_ ,” Steve says. “ _Actually—I’m out where you were staying._ ”

Bucky narrows his eyes. “I thought you were gonna try to go back to sleep?”

“ _Nah. We’re gonna have to start lining up our sleeping patterns, and you sound wide awake._ ”

Bucky doesn’t know if he’s wide awake or sleepy or what. He has no idea what to do in this goddamn place. There was only one flash of light, one, and it’s been darkness and that’s it since. No stairs. No rooms. No nothing. It’s insane and it could easily drive him insane, if he thinks about it too hard.

“Feed the animals, while you’re out there. Boss lady needs a little extra unless you wanna get rammed.”

“ _Wow, boss lady?_ ”

“She knows who she is,” Bucky says, smiling to himself. Hearing Steve’s voice—Steve’s actual voice, not the Steve he made up—has reinvigorated him. He was sure he was dead, but now he knows he’s just displaced—but he has no fucking idea how to figure out where he is and how they’re gonna find him. There are absolutely no indications, no signs—he ran for what felt like miles to get where he is now, but he might as well have been running in place. He sighs, getting up again. 

“ _You okay?_ ” Steve asks.

“Yeah,” Bucky says, pacing. He tries to feel for anything beneath his feet, but it’s all smooth. There’s a lump in his throat and he shakes his head. “Just thinking how shitty it is that whenever we link back up, something’s gotta tear us apart again. Think the universe might be saying something.”

“ _Whatever it is, I’m not listening._ ”

Bucky snorts. “Me either.”

“ _We can do this. We’ve dealt with worse._ ”

“Worst part is, you’d still be saying that even if you were the one in here,” Bucky says. He looks around, hoping one miracle will lead to another. Still can’t see shit.

“ _Yeah, but I’m even more determined because it’s you._ ”

Bucky closes his eyes. He doesn’t want to say he wishes Steve was here because he doesn’t, he doesn’t want Steve in a situation like this, but his mind keeps providing him with the phrase _wish you were here wish you were here wish you were here_. “I wish there was something to fucking do,” he says. “I was supposed to show you the farm once everything was done and now look. You’re there alone.”

“ _You’re right here with me—_ ”

“Don’t go and overfeed them—”

They talk over each other and Bucky stops abruptly, chewing on his lower lip. His stomach flips and he’s never felt farther away, which is a feat, in his case.

“I’ve still got this arm,” he says, running his hand over the sleek newness of it. “I wish I had been able to take the goddamn gun with me. Should have attached it to my body, too.”

“ _Might not have been the best look…_ ” Steve trails off. 

Bucky rubs his hands over his face. “When are you guys telling the rest of them?” he asks. “They’ll believe you, right? I’m glad Stark is on your side, because I have a feeling if it had been just you he’d be the number one insanity proponent.”

“ _Soon_ ,” Steve says. “ _Probably as soon as he wakes up, if he slept at all. I know they’re gonna come looking for me soon, probably Natasha first…but I think she’ll be on my side._ ”

“Hopefully,” Bucky says. “You’re gonna need all you can get.” He doesn’t know what he’d think if he was there, though he does know that if it was Steve he’d believe him, full stop. But if it was Stark and the kid? No idea. It’s a hard thing to believe unless you’re firmly in the corner of said possible insane person. 

“The kid,” Bucky says.

“ _What about him?_ ” Steve asks, fast. “ _You see him?_ ”

“No,” Bucky says. He doesn’t see shit. He doesn’t know how to properly describe the level of darkness in here to Steve, he’d tried earlier but it doesn’t ever really come across as bad as it is. He knows Steve is stressed enough, so he figured he’d just drop it. He sighs. “I’m gonna go look for him again.”

“ _How do you know where you’ve looked and where you haven’t?_ ”

Bucky narrows his eyes. “Wow.”

“ _What?_ ”

“That feels like you’re mocking my predicament,” Bucky says, hands on hips. 

“ _Me? No, I wouldn’t._ ”

“Uh-huh.” Intentional or not, Bucky is glad for the moment. 

He starts searching. Darkness here, darkness there, as much as he squints and focuses, as fast as he runs, as far as he goes. He wonders if this is a vast landscape, an abyss on a different planet, a black hole in the darkest corner of the universe. He hears Steve run into other people, make small talk, and whenever the smoothness of his voice fills Bucky’s head, he calms down a little bit. Steve always had that effect on him, when he wasn’t doing something stupid or dangerous.

Bucky feels like he searches forever. And ever and ever and ever. Infinite, this place is absolutely fucking infinite. He thinks back to all the science fiction movies he used to watch, how he stared, absolutely enamored at all the things he didn’t think would ever be possible. The things he’s seen since—all the crazy shit—and now there’s this. A pristine, infinite expanse of blackness. It could be anything. This could be anything. This place could be a speck in the middle of an empty field. It could be a stone in someone’s fucking necklace. This is the kind of goddamn sci-fi he would have passed up if he saw it on the marquee. 

They haven’t discussed what any of this means. If they’re stuck in suspended animation. If they’re going to age here, if time is going to pass properly, if they need food and water to survive or they’re just stuck, perfectly forever. It could be anything, and he flashes through all the possibilities in his head. He guesses they’ll find out if he starts to die of dehydration. 

He remembers the spider kid from Germany, and he was a little knocked out at the extent of the relationship between him and Stark that Steve described. He never thought Stark would be too good with kids, but in actuality he’d never thought too much about the idea at all. He didn’t think about Stark unless he absolutely had to, but even when they’re fighting, Steve talks highly of him. Now they’re aligned in a way that nobody would have ever expected, and Bucky makes himself think about it. He concludes that it’s kinda cute Stark cares so much about this spider kid, enough to forge whatever the hell kind of connection the four of them have going on here. 

Bucky knows why he’s got Steve, why they were able to manage this—there has never been, and there will never be, another person that knows him the way Steve does. Inside out, able to pull him back from blankness and pain and anger that wasn’t his own, able to remake him and open him up—the only goddamn idiot he wants to ride the Cyclone with until he pukes. Til the end of the line—and he means that. So if Stark somehow managed to gain a couple new personality traits and take up the dad mantle with this kid—on the same goddamn level of dedication and love and partnership that he and Steve have—

Nah, Bucky doesn’t get it. He just can’t picture it. He’s trying to imagine Tony pulling his head out of his own ass long enough to mentor a kid, let alone become a beloved father figure, and he gives himself a headache thinking about it.

A light floods into the space, and at first he’s close to jumping for joy until he realizes it’s starting to exacerbate his headache. Exacerbate isn’t the right word. It’s like someone is killing him by hurling him onto the surface of the sun. He has real no moment to be glad for the light after so much darkness, because the light is intent on causing him as much pain as physically possible. Of fucking course.

He yells. He falls to his knees and immediately longs for the darkness. _Please, please, I want the dark back, I’ll never complain about it again, it was just dark enough, so much better than this—_

“ _Bucky, what’s happening?_ ” Steve yells, panicking. “ _What’s wrong, talk to me—_ ”

Then the light levels out, calms down. He can tell because his eyelids aren’t burning anymore, though he’s a little nervous to open them still for fear of being blinded. He breathes hard. 

“ _Buck, please. Please say something. Can you hear me?_ ”

“I hear you, sorry,” Bucky says. He pops one eye open. Fuck. Thank God. Now this is more normal. It feels less alien. Now he can see. He can see where the fuck he is. His heart rattles in his chest and he shudders back to his feet, looking around. It’s a real place—not just a never-ending slab out in space. “Develop—new development. I can see, someone turned the lights on.”

“ _Jesus, really?_ ”

“Yeah, really—” He turns and stops. Stares.

The spider kid is standing not ten feet away from him. Spider suit and all, sans mask. Bucky continues to stare at him—it’s felt so, so empty and lonely and listless since he was taken from Wakanda, taken from Steve and deposited here, and he has to stop himself from rushing over to the kid and shaking him to make sure he’s real, and actually there, right in front of him. Bucky digs into his head—he’s been thinking _spider kid_ and _spiderling_ and not the kid’s actual name since Steve first told him what was going on—what the fuck is it—Peter. Peter something. 

Peter gapes at him. “Oh man. I can’t believe it. You’re right there.”

“No, _you’re_ right there,” Bucky says, immediately, and he has no idea why. “How the hell long have you been right there?”

Peter shakes his head at him and the sentence he was forming dies in his mouth, replaced by one that is decidedly not directed at Bucky. “Yeah—yeah, lights on, Sergeant Barnes found—I know—yes, of course—”

“ _Did you find the kid?_ ” Steve exclaims, loud enough to make Bucky wince. 

“Yeah, found him,” Bucky says. He can’t help but smile. “Wow, it’s…it’s really good to see another face.”

“Yes, oh my God,” Peter says, breathing hard.

Bucky holds out his hand, shaking his head. “Uh—kid—I know we’ve like, interacted before—”

“Never properly introduced,” Peter says, standing up a little bit straighter and approaching him. “You’re Bucky Barnes and I’m Peter Parker.” He winces at himself, but still takes Bucky's hand in his own. He has a strong grip. “Sorry, I, uh—about before—yeah—but we’re definitely on the same side now.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, grinning at him and shaking his hand. He’s ecstatic. Another person, another one of their people. The exact person he was supposed to be looking for. “Yeah, Yeah—nice to meet you, Peter. You know—what’s going on with me, right? Stark told you?” He taps on his temple. 

“ _I gotta go find Tony,_ ” Steve says, and he sounds like he’s running.

“Yeah, yeah, Tony told me,” Peter says, letting go of his hand. He smiles wide, and Bucky knew he was young but he looks really, really young. His suit definitely looks like it got an upgrade from when he saw him in Germany. Peter heaves a sigh. “Wow, I never thought I’d find you, dude,” he says.

“I’ve been running all over this place,” Bucky says. And then he realizes. Remembers. The fucking lights are on. “Oh shit,” Bucky says, looking up and around.

“Oh yeah,” the kid says, following his gaze. “Totally forgot to even look around, you distracted me—”

“I distracted you,” Bucky says, unsure why he keeps wanting to get into competition with everything Peter throws at him. “You distracted—”

“Yeah, Mr. Stark,” Peter says, as he looks around. “Yes—you alright?”

Tony doesn’t let the kid call him by his first name? Weird. But Bucky stops listening, because the kid starts to chatter on to Tony as he does his sweep, too. 

This place is a lot bigger than Bucky could have imagined. “Steve,” he mutters.

“ _Yeah? You two alright?_ ”

“This place—weirdly enough—looks like a goddamn, gigantic, alien warehouse,” Bucky says. 

The air feels stale, like the light coming on did something to it. He wonders where the hell the light came from, why it came on when it did. He thinks it might have something to do with him and Peter finding each other, which raises more questions about this place and if it has some kind of perception they don’t know about. The area goes on for what looks like eternity, all around him, the ceiling not so much a ceiling but a black, liquidy mass that almost looks like it’s moving. It’s too tall to get to even if he had a jetpack, as far away as the top of the Empire State Building, but he can see it now. He can’t see any walls, and weirdly enough, there actually seems to be a bunch of shit stored here. It reminds him of a less full version of the warehouse at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark, which he only just recently watched because Shuri loves it. There are little black crates scattered here and there, as far as his eye can see. It sort of smells that old bagel place he used to go to, in another life.

“Mr. Stark—there is so much shit in here,” Peter says. Bucky looks over at him and Peter’s eyes widen, wonderment clear on his face. Bucky smiles back—this is hope, this is a good thing, this is an amazing thing. “I gotta go talk to Bucky—no. I didn’t say that, of course not.”

“ _Okay—take a look around, but be careful—try and see if you can find anybody else,”_ Steve says. “ _I’m glad it’s not dark anymore._ ”

Bucky smiles to himself, looking down at his feet. “Yeah…me too.”

“I know,” Peter says, looking away. If Bucky didn’t know any better, he’d think he was having an argument with himself. “I know, okay—of course not. Don’t you trust me?” Peter stares off for a second and then he sighs, rolling his eyes. He looks at Bucky and motions with his hands a bit, kind of like he wants to cover the receiver of a phone. He mouths the word _sorry_ and Bucky likes him instantly. 

“Steve, there are four people in this conversation now,” Bucky says. “Make sure you can keep up, old man.”

“ _Old man_ ,” Steve laughs. “ _Look who’s talking._ ”

“Okay, let’s go look around,” Peter says. “There’s lots of stuff in here—yes, Mr. Stark, I’m gonna log it—in my brain, I don’t have any paper.”

Bucky snorts. “Does he make you call him that?” he asks.

Peter looks over at him as they both start walking. They’re pretty far away from the first pile of crates and Bucky can’t even imagine what the hell this shit is, why it’s here, or why their afterlife or jail or whatever the hell this is, is in the form of some intergalactic warehouse. 

“No,” Peter says, shrugging. “Just…I don’t know. Habit, I guess, politeness.” He snorts, pointing at Bucky. “You should call Steve Mr. Rogers.”

Bucky stares at him. “Why would I do that?”

Peter widens his eyes, looking around like there’s somebody else here to commiserate with over a point he’s clearly not making. He shakes his head, giving up. “Forget it, it’s just—Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood was an old TV show and like—he’s just a nice dude, nice like Cap except—less—you know what, forget it.” He pouts for a second before he smiles again, wide and bright. “Thank you!” he says, clearly talking to Tony.

“ _I’m with Tony now and he’s laughing at me—what are you guys talking about?_ ”

Bucky grits his teeth, rolling his eyes. “We’re starting our reconnaissance mission.”

“ _Alright, stay in contact. Um—Tony has this look on his face and—he’s—holding up a piece of paper that says TELL HIM TO TAKE CARE OF THE KID so…yeah, make sure the kid doesn’t do anything stupid._ ”

“Noted,” Bucky says, looking over at him. 

“What?” Peter asks. “Mr. Stark is being quiet. Are they talking about me?”

“Of course not,” Bucky says, the two of them falling into step and making a beeline for the first set of crates.

Great. Now he’s the one that has a kid to take care of. He looks back at him, sees Peter’s brows furrowed—he’s got one arm wrapped around his middle and he seems more serious. He cuts his eyes up to Bucky and gives a little half-hearted smile. “Yeah, okay,” he whispers, looking away again. “Yeah, I will. It’s gonna—fine, fine—but it’s fine.”

Bucky narrows his eyes. “Never thought Tony Stark would be such an overbearing father.”

“Yeah,” Peter laughs, a little too loud. “Yeah, he’s—wait, no, he’s—he’s not my dad.”

“ _Tony is saying something about harassing his kid—_ ”

“Mr. Stark—”

“ _Buck—_ ”

“Okay, this is officially the worst game of telephone I’ve ever played,” Bucky huffs, motioning for the kid to pick up the pace.


	6. Chapter 6

Steve doesn’t think any of them have ever looked at him like they’re looking at him right now. The majority of their group is in the conference room, which looks much too simple to be here in Wakanda. They’re surrounding the long table, Clint choosing to stand in the corner, and Steve keeps watching as people move by through the gossamer pane of glass over the door. Shuri leaves a seat open for T’Challa, as she has been since everything started, and it just reminds Steve of the direness of all this. He hopes Bucky and Peter are able to find the others, and soon.

He and Tony are sitting on the same side of the table, shoulder to shoulder, and Bruce is rhythmically tapping his pen on the table, staring. Natasha is staring too, but regarding might be a better word. Her eyes keep flicking back and forth between him and Tony. Rhodey looks the most worried out of all of them, honing in on Tony like he wants to say something, but can’t bring himself to.

Thor speaks first. “Have they come across anyone else?” he asks.

“Not yet,” Steve says, looking at Tony. Even now, he can hear Bucky in his head—he and Peter are going through these crates that are around them, and with this and that happening at the same time Steve doesn’t know how to keep his head on straight. 

“Is this something that’s actually happening?” Bruce asks, looking around. Shuri is on his left but she seems stalwart in her belief. Steve can almost tell what she’s thinking, too.

“We didn’t do anything to get this,” Tony says, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. “It just happened. So before those questions start coming, we have no goddamn idea how this started, it was literally like…a switch.”

“Why the two of you?” Natasha asks.

“We have no idea why,” Steve says. “And it isn’t necessarily just us, there could be…plenty of people around the world, around the universe that this is happening to.”

“We could study them,” Shuri says, turning to Bruce. 

“Uh, not looking to be cut open—” Tony says, holding out his hands.

“Not in that way,” Shuri says, looking at him. “I’d like to see if we can determine the energy source of the connection, compare it to one of us without it.”

“Anyone else have it?” Natasha asks. 

Everything is quiet as the others shake their heads, and Steve listens to Bucky bark some order to Peter about stepping lightly. Tony gives Steve a worried look. He leans forward and scribbles something. 

“The rab—Rocky would inform me,” Thor says, nodding to himself. 

The rest of them mutter their negatives, and Tony shoves the paper over in front of Steve. 

_WE’RE GONNA NEED TO CARRY AROUND THESE FUCKIN NOTEBOOKS FOR ME TO COMPLAIN AND HELICOPTER PARENT PETER WITHOUT HIM HEARING ME_

Steve blows out a little laugh.

“Passing notes?” Natasha asks.

Steve holds up the note for the rest of them to read, receiving a groan and eye roll from Tony, but they all nod and agree and half laugh at him.

“Might be sort of difficult for us to discuss this, since they can hear everything you’re saying,” Rhodey says. “They can’t hear us, right?”

Both Steve and Tony shake their heads.

“I’m fine, kid,” Tony says. “Don’t be worrying about me, keep your head in the game.”

“ _Meeting going well?_ ” Bucky asks. “ _I feel like you can’t answer me. This feels like school._ ”

“Meeting fine,” Steve mutters, watching the others watch him. 

Thor stands up, palms pressed flat to the table, and he leans over. “Barnes and Spider child! We believe that the Captain and Stark are telling the truth! We believe it! We believe you are in there!”

“They can’t—they can’t hear you,” Tony says.

Steve snorts, covering his face. 

“Why not?” Thor asks, his brows furrowed.

“We don’t know,” Steve says.

“Yeah, Thor is trying to talk to you,” Tony says, laying his head on the table. “Oh, he’s excited—Thor, Peter says hello.”

“Hello, small spider!” Thor yells, still leaning forward. “Why can’t he hear me? If he is in Stark’s brain, he should be able to hear through Stark’s ears.”

“The whole thing is…weird,” Steve says. 

“Have they been able to describe where they are?” Natasha asks.

“It’s like a big, huge warehouse,” Steve says, shifting a little in his seat. “Everything looks alien—no walls, only a ceiling that kinda looks like moving black liquid. There was no light until they found each other, and then the place lit up. They can’t see the source of the light, and the only things around are these black crates—little, smooth black boxes that they’re investigating right now.”

“ _Okay, lemme boost you up._ ”

Steve swallows over the lump in his throat.

“If we can find and follow the energy patterns, we might be able to locate them,” Shuri says. 

“That’s good news,” Tony says, sitting back up and looking at Steve. 

“That is, if there is an energy signature,” Shuri says.

“Yeah, it might just be…a thing that’s happening,” Bruce says, with a sigh. “No trace.”

“Finding Thanos might lead us to finding them,” Clint says, from the corner. Steve’s heart hurts when he looks at him, knowing what he’s lost. 

“Clint, this is…this is a good thing,” Steve says. “If Bucky and Peter are there, and good enough to be able to connect with us—that logically leads me to believe everybody else is there, too.”

“Then why can’t everybody else hear their people?” Clint asks, looking up. He’s got his arms crossed over his chest and there’s such pain in his eyes. Steve feels it, he knows, but he can’t possibly imagine the extent of it. His whole family. 

“Listen, after linking up with Strange, I’ve realized that there’s a whole ton of magical shit that’s possible that none of us know about. And he’s in there too.”

Steve looks at him. “You think he did this?”

“ _What’s going on?_ ” Bucky asks. “ _Peter’s like—what? What’s he saying?_ ”

“Kid—maybe—and Steve, same answer. Maybe. I don’t know, but he’s capable of shit like this and I can imagine he’s still capable in there—Peter, your webshooters are a different situation, you might just be out of fluid. You used a lot on Titan.”

“ _Oh, okay—really? How many?_ ”

“What are you two talking about?” Steve asks, trying to unpop his ear. 

“Peter is fangirling over Doctor Strange,” Tony says, shrugging. 

“How are you guys even dealing with this?” Bruce asks. “Isn’t it like a really bad game of telephone?”

“Yeah, Bucky said that,” Steve says.

“ _What’d I say?_ ”

“Nothing, nothing—”

“You two need to focus,” Tony says. “Peter—pretend this is a thing that I specifically asked—no, this _is_ a thing I specifically asked, carefully—no—okay, I believe you—”

“Jesus,” Natasha says, watching him. 

“Captain Rogers,” Shuri says. “Could I try to find the energy? See if it’s there?”

“Yes, of course,” Steve says.

“Peter—I swear to God—”

“We’ll check Mr. Stark once he’s done with the child.”

Tony points over at her as Steve is getting to his feet. “I’ll never be done with the child.”

“I think Tony is making him sound a lot younger than he is,” Natasha says. “He’s not like, nine years old—”

Steve walks around by Clint and stops next to him. They haven’t talked much since Clint got here, but things seem different, now. Steve has a new ray of hope in his heart that wasn’t there before. He claps him on the shoulder. “Listen—this is good. They’re exploring the whole place, there’s…a vast landscape in there, further than the eye can see—there’s plenty of room to find people. All of our people. And we’ve got them in our heads 24/7, so we’ll know as soon as they know. Which means you’ll know as soon as I do.”

Clint nods at him. “Thanks, Cap.”

~

Bruce hovers around as Shuri is studying Steve’s head, tapping his nails on the table next to Steve’s neck. Shuri is a couple feet away, behind a desk, looking at holograms that shimmer and pulse. She keeps moving things with her fingers on and off a white grid, pushing parts of the hologram aside and opening up others, making them bigger. He narrows his eyes.

“Is that my brain?” he asks.

“Yes,” she says. “Seems as though you have a lot going on up there.”

“ _All of these in this goddamn pile are empty, Steve._ ”

Steve sighs. “Alright.”

“You alright?” Bruce asks.

“Uh, yeah,” Steve asks, meeting his eyes. “Talking to Bucky.”

“Ah, sorry,” Bruce says, shuffling a little further away. He blinks up at the wall, looks all around. “I mean…this is crazy, Cap.”

“I know.” He feels bad for Bruce, after everything he’s dealt with recently. It’s hard, juggling everything, the pain that everyone is feeling. Sometimes, Steve doesn’t know how he’s managing.

“But it’s sorta nice, too,” Bruce says. “Like…well, it’s really good. It’s great, especially for the two of you. Tony loves that kid, so it’s nice—I mean, it’s nice that he knows he’s not dead. And I know how close you and Barnes are—”

“ _Peter, what are you doing??_ ”

Steve narrows his eyes. 

“—so this is like…well shit, after everything we’ve been through, all this horrible, awful—well, it’s good. It’s good to know they’re…they’re at least somewhere, you know? Even though we don’t know where that somewhere is. It’s gonna help us find them, and everybody else.”

“I do see something,” Shuri says. “Every so often, a surge of energy—”

“ _Kid—fuck!_ ”

“There it is again—”

“What’s happening?” Steve asks, his heartbeat picking up its pace.

“What’s wrong?” Bruce asks. 

“Captain Rogers, your heartbeat—”

Steve listens to Bucky groaning, yelling. “ _Peter, just—just hold onto my hand, I got you—_ ”

Tony bursts into the room and he looks frazzled, sheer panic on his face. Steve sits up, watching as he rushes over to the side of the table, Bruce latching onto his arm.

“What—”

“ _I’ve got you, I’ve got you—_ ”

“The fucking crates—Peter, just pull yourself up, focus, kid, focus—the crates are bottomless, and Peter just fell right into one.”

“Bucky’s got him,” Steve says, praying it’s true.

Tony closes his eyes and holds onto Bruce’s forearm. “Christ, okay, I think—”

“Bucky,” Steve says. 

“Kid, I swear to God, are you laughing right now?” Tony asks, through gritted teeth.

“Bucky, is it fine?” Steve asks.

“The energy is all over the place,” Shuri says. “I’m going to try and follow it out, see if it leads anywhere, because even if I already believed you, it’s clear this isn’t stemming from your own brain.”

Steve nods, sucking in a breath through his mouth.

“ _Okay. Okay, kid is gonna give me a heart attack but he’s fine, he’s actually interested in going back in there—Peter, Jesus, relax, please—okay, he thinks these crates lead to somewhere else in here. He thinks they’re like…portals, maybe? It’s possible, I mean—_ ”

“He thinks they’re portals,” Tony says.

“What?” Bruce asks.

“The crates—”

“ _—could be a reason why we’re alone, why there are so many of them—and Steve, there are a lot, they’re fucking everywhere, we’ve only gone through one pile of like thirty something, and we wouldn’t have even realized had the kid not fallen into one—_ ”

“I literally cannot believe you fell into a box,” Tony says. “How many times do I need to say be careful? Pete—yes—kid, I know it’s good info—just, please—Peter, I’m not there, so all of this shit where I just have to hear you screaming is going to head straight into the nightmare box where you already reside—” He’s cut off again and he scoffs, sighing heavily.

“ _Steve, you okay?_ ” Bucky asks. “ _You’re not talking._ ”

“I’m okay,” Steve says. Hearing the panic in Bucky’s voice scared him too, and it really nails in the fact that they’re fucking worlds, possibly universes away. Thanos’s whole deal was wiping out half the universe, so it’s probably not farfetched to say their friends and family are somewhere else entirely. “You guys are good, right?”

“ _Yeah, though it kinda seems like Stark is yelling at the kid—_ ”

Steve looks up at him.

“You can take off the sensors,” Shuri says, approaching him. “I have what I need.”

Steve nods, and keeps talking to Bucky as he peels them off. “He’s not yelling, it just—my voice fills up your head, right?”

“ _Yeah._ ”

“—I just need you to step lightly, be a superhero, sure, yes, that’s what you are, but—”

“Just imagine if I started—yelling—like something horrible was happening to me,” Steve says, digging his fingers into his eyes. “And I mean like, yeah—we can’t tune you out, you can’t press mute on yourself—but don’t begrudge Tony any feelings on hearing that.”

“ _Okay, got it—yeah—I guess it didn’t sound too good on either end._ ”

“It’s okay,” Steve says, realizing then how fast his heart is beating. “Just—God, whatever you do, be careful.” He can’t imagine losing them like this. They just got them back, but they’re so separated, and suddenly everything feels dangerous. Before it was just darkness, nothingness, and that was terrible, but at least it had some kind of safety to it. 

Steve tries to tell himself there could have been something out there even then, that there was, that the crates were there even if Bucky and Peter couldn’t see them. But he wishes for the feeling of safety again.

“I’m glad you two are aligned again,” Bruce says, clapping Steve on the shoulder. “It’s nice, it’s…really nice.”

“I’m not gonna be aligned with anything for too much longer,” Tony says, slumping over a little against the table Steve is sitting on. “The disembodied voice of Peter Parker is intent on sending me to an early grave—well, it’s _true._ ”

“ _We are…carefully…going to start investigating the next set of crates,_ ” Bucky says.

“Yelling, good,” Tony says. “Glad you warned me this time.”

“It’s very difficult to tell when you’re talking to them,” Bruce says. 

“I’ll address you,” Tony says, knocking him on the arm. 

“Okay,” Steve says, getting to his feet. “Okay, let’s head back to the conference room, try to figure out what—”

The door opens and Rhodey steps inside. “Tony?”

“Yeah, what?” Tony asks. “Did someone else fall down?”

“There’s a woman here—no idea how she even got in here, Okoye and some of the others have her now—she has all kinds of clearance, shit from Nick Fury himself. Her name is Carol Danvers, but she says you might know her by Captain Marvel.”

Steve looks at Tony. “You know that name?”

“Think so,” Tony says, his eyes darting back and forth. “Shuri, you know her? Does she have a reason to be in Wakanda?”

“The only reason I can think of is that you are here,” she says. “All of you.”

Steve tries to read Tony's expression. Nick Fury is gone, among the lost, unless he’s still hiding. But Steve doubts he’d stay out of the fray after everything that happened without contacting them. So what the hell is this? Is this his contact?

“ _Steve,_ ” Bucky says, slowly.

“What?” both Steve and Tony ask at the same time.

Bucky is talking slowly, quietly. And Steve’s heart starts hammering again. “ _Uh. There’s…we see something. In one of the crates._ ”

“What is _he_ saying?” Tony asks, clipped, turning to square up in front of Steve, his eyes wide and his hands on his hips. “Because Peter just said they found a monster.”

Steve sucks in a breath. The last possible thing they need. Why the hell would a monster be there? Jesus, half the universe wiped out. Some of those beings could have easily been things that look like monsters to them. “Bucky—is there—a _monster?_ ”

Bucky sighs and Steve can feel it everywhere. “ _Uh—you know. Maybe. Yeah. This might be a monster._ ”


	7. Chapter 7

Peter sways a little bit and Bucky takes a hold of his shoulder. He doesn’t wanna be excited because this is all dangerous, this is literally life after death—but he’s teamed up with the Winter Solider, about to face a monster, and he’s got Iron Man freaking out in his head.

Okay, he doesn’t want Tony to freak out. He wants Tony to chill out and trust him, he doesn’t want him to be upset. But Peter guesses he can’t stop him from being worried. It’s actually super flattering. 

The monster hasn’t noticed them. It’s pretty far away—Peter has to really bend down to see it’s whole body. They slowly close the top of the crate without making any noise, which Peter is an expert at, after hiding Spiderman from Aunt May for so long. 

“Okay,” Peter whispers, deflating. “We’re good.”

“ _You’re good?_ ” Tony asks.

“Yeah,” Peter answers.

“ _Kid, no matter what you hear me saying or doing over here, keep updating me, I’m listening. Especially if there’s a monster._ ”

“Alright, Mr. Stark,” Peter says. He looks at Bucky, who seems to be listening to something Steve is saying. “Bucky, Sergeant—Sergeant Barnes—”

“You were right the first time,” Bucky says.

Peter nods, sucking in a breath. “Okay, so what should we do?” he asks. “We don’t really have weapons, well—you’ve got your arm, I don’t know, maybe you can do some damage—”

Bucky narrows his eyes at him. “We are not gonna fight this thing, kid.”

“Why not?” Peter asks. “We’re gonna be climbing up and down these crates, we might hit this thing too hard and then it’ll come running out and kill us anyway.”

“ _Kill you? What?_ ”

“And there could be monsters in some of the other crates,” Peter says, gesturing around. “What if you fall through one of them this time? You’re not gonna fight back?” He crosses his arms over his chest. He hears Tony grumbling, to him and to someone else, and he sounds a little out of breath.

Bucky is staring off, looking down at the box and away from it again, like he thinks not looking at it will get it out of Peter’s head. Yeah right.

“ _She’s okay, she’s okay—_ ”

That gets Peter’s attention. “Hey,” he whispers, and Bucky looks at him. Peter points up at his temple and shakes his head. He mouths ‘what are they doing’?

“Hey Steve,” Bucky says, deadpan, staring at Peter. “What are you guys doing?”

Peter glares at him.

“They’re meeting—”

“ _Kid, you can ask me, it isn’t a secret—we’re meeting somebody, it looks like there’s someone else on our team…well, we’re gonna chat her up, see what she’s got to say. She might be able to help us._ ”

Peter’s heart is on a rampage. “Really?” he asks. “Really really? Who is she?”

“ _Captain Marvel,_ ” Tony says, and Bucky says it at the same time, though it seems like more of a question coming from him. “ _I’ve heard of her before, and she’s got clearances from Fury, so hopefully this gives us some answers. Just hang in, kiddo, where’s the monster?_ ”

“I—”

“Steve, tell Tony the kid is trying to fight a monster when he doesn’t have to fight a monster.”

Peter gasps at the betrayal. 

“I am not—”

“ _Peter_ ,” Tony says, sounding exasperated. “ _What the hell—don’t purposefully get in a fight with a monster, okay? If you’re away from it, leave it alone. Enough on our plates and you don’t have any weapons. I don’t know how your suit is behaving in there._ ”

“I did not betray him—” Bucky scoffs.

“You so did,” Peter says, with a sigh. “It’s fine, let’s just—make sure the top is on there, he could get out—”

“How do you know it’s a he?” Bucky asks, carefully adjusting the corners of the crate, pressing them in.

“I don’t,” Peter says, shrugging. “Like I was saying, there could be monsters in any of these boxes, if there’s like…a whole half of the universe in here—”

“Well, let’s just be careful,” Bucky says, turning his head slightly and straightening back out. “We’ll look around….carefully…and hopefully find our people so we can gather them up.”

“And then what?” Peter asks.

“I don’t know, kid,” Bucky says. He sighs. Peter trains his eyes on the crate with the monster inside it. It didn’t look like anything he’s ever seen before—like some kind of radioactive cheetah monster—scaly skin and slit eyes and Peter doesn’t even wanna think about how many weird things are locked up in here. It looked strange in the crate—far away, like it’s area was a lot bigger than the width of the crate let on. This place must be huge. He guesses it kinda has to be—half the universe. He’s gotta keep reminding himself of that. Half the goddamn universe.

It gives him goosebumps. 

“C’mon,” Bucky says, tugging on Peter’s arm. “Give it a wide berth.”

“It could easily come through on its own,” Peter says, stepping up onto one of the empty crates. “And—geeze, these crates we said were empty—God, they might not even be empty.”

“So you wanna fall into one again?” Bucky asks, glaring at him. “No way, Pete—”

“I wouldn’t fall again,” Peter says, slightly irritated, the crate feeling unsteady under his feet. “I mean—I didn’t get a good enough look. If these things really are portals, the empty ones might just be facing the wrong way for us to see anything. We gotta start yelling into all of them. We can’t just pick and choose if we wanna find people. We gotta go back over all the ones we already passed by.” He thinks about May. He’d give anything to hear her voice right now.

“You’re right,” Bucky says, shaking his head.

“I am?” Peter asks, because he was definitely expecting more fight.

“It’s gonna be fucking exasperating, but yeah,” Bucky says.

Tony is talking and talking to someone and Peter can’t keep up with it all. It’s hard only hearing one side of the conversation. He rubs his hands over his face and sighs. He feels a little crazy. He’s having a hard time adjusting to all this. He’ll jump from terror to excitement, from excitement to unbearable sadness. From unbearable sadness to dizziness, a quiet fear that makes him freeze up, go tense. The surrealness of his situation doesn’t escape him, not at all. He keeps staring at Bucky like he’s some sort of apparition. And as many times as he upgraded his speakers at home, they never sounded the way Tony sounds in his head. He can feel every tremor in his voice, every mispronunciation, the way his words curve and fall, when his breath hitches. It scares Peter when he sounds a certain way. He’s only known Tony to be confident, sure of himself, but he knows their current situation is wearing on him.

“We’ll finish this pile together,” Bucky says. “Then I’ll go back to the ones we didn’t investigate well enough and do some shouting into the void, you start on the next one and we’ll meet back up. Hopefully someone—not murdery will hear us.”

“Okay,” Peter says. “Let’s just…yell a little softer while we’re close to the one we definitely know has a monster in it.”

“Smart,” Bucky says, smiling. Then he gets a sour look on his face, and he opens his mouth to say something. But Peter doesn’t get to listen for long.

“ _I’m sorry, forgive me, one second, the voice in my head—Peter, don’t split up. Please, Jesus—you made a mistake letting me know there’s some kind of alien monster in there, I don’t even like saying the word monster in the context of this shitcan of a situation—_ ”

“How can I even hide it from you?” Peter says, throwing his hands up. “You hear everything I say.”

“ _Exactly. Please, stick to Bucky like glue—_ ”

“I can take care of myself, Mr. Stark,” Peter says, gritting his teeth and blushing angrily.

Bucky is in the middle of a tirade. “—listen, I swear, we’re not fucking kids—okay, _I’m_ not a kid—”

“ _Sure, sure, but I need you to keep Barnes safe, for like—Steve’s frame of mind—_ ”

Peter looks at Bucky and rolls his eyes. “I wish I could mute him.”

“ _Well, you can’t, so I just heard that._ ”

“Alright, alright, we’ll stick together the whole time, scrap our plan,” Bucky says, but he shakes his head at the same time and cuts his hand back and forth in the air across his throat. Peter is tempted to out him for hiding something like Bucky did to him, but he realizes that would be working against their plan.

“ _Peter—_ ”

“Mr. Stark, I’m fine, I know you’re in an important, like—world saving meeting right now, so please, just—we’re good, it’s okay—”

“ _Fuck, it’s not—okay, we’re gonna talk here, in a minute. As soon as I’m out of here—_ ”

“Fine!” Peter says, throwing his hands up and letting them come back down against his thighs. “We’re just gonna do our thing here—”

“ _Yeah, yeah, do your thing,_ ” Tony says, but he really sounds mad. 

He really wants to complain out loud but he knows he can’t, because Tony will hear him. He tries to keep his mouth shut, and wishes for some kind of paper he could write on and show Bucky, so they could be slick about _something._

They go through the rest of the crates and don’t find anything, which really makes Peter’s hopes take a hit. Why couldn’t it have been May standing alone in that goddamn crate? Or even Doctor Strange? It isn’t fair. And it makes him worry. What if this is just one world? What if everybody else is somewhere else?

“Hello?” he yells into his crate, listening to Bucky do the same a little ways away from him. “Anybody in there? Anybody hear me?” He sighs, flipping over onto his back, his head hanging a little ways into the crate. Free air, this is definitely a big, unexplored area. He still doesn’t see anything.

“ _What happened there?_ ” Tony asks, though he’s clearly not talking to Peter. He’s still in his meeting. Peter wishes these stupid powers extended to everybody Tony spoke to, too. 

“Nothing,” Bucky says, moving on to the next. 

“This sucks,” Peter says, getting up. 

“Tell me about it.”

“It reminds me a lot of when I had to pass out flyers for the Experiment Expo,” Peter says, getting a brief flash of walking door to door with Ned, the papers threatening to fly out of their hands. “Nobody was answering and we would just stand there and knock and knock because Mr. Gainey didn’t want us to come back with any flyers. But nobody wanted to open up! I think they saw it was us through the windows and didn’t wanna deal.”

“So what’d you do with the flyers?” Bucky asks, peeling the top off the next crate. 

“ _They should all still be in the same spot? Anybody check on that?_ ” Tony sounds anxious.

“Tossed ‘em,” Peter says, moving on to the crate beside Bucky. “But Mr. Gainey had like, spies following us and he got really mad.”

“Hello?” Bucky yells, halfway into his crate. “Anybody in here? Anybody around?”

Peter watches before he does the same. He yells so loud he hurts his throat. He’s getting desperate. Bucky looks around, and then he shakes his head. 

“Ugh, this sucks,” Peter moans. 

“ _Just the two of us, specifically? How would that work?_ ”

Tony’s half of this conversation is driving Peter insane. 

“I never did much in school,” Bucky says. “My joining in came along later, when the war started. But school was a lot of chasing girls, reading, finishing Steve’s fights.”

“Oh,” Peter says, following him as they both move on. It really hits him then that Bucky and Steve were around for things he’s read about in history books. Like, he knows it, but it wasn’t foremost in his mind. Mostly he’s been thinking about the times when he and all the rest of the kids from the block would play the Howling Commandos. Peter would almost always be Bucky. “I, um—I like to read, too,” he says, dumbly.

“You should give me some modern day recommendations,” Bucky says. “I haven’t gotten to do much reading since—well, since I’ve been back.”

Peter narrows his eyes as they both choose their next crates. “But you’ve heard of Harry Potter, right?”

“Who’s that?” Bucky asks.

Peter sucks in a breath, stopping in his tracks. “Oh my God.”

For the next thirty minutes they continue to go through the crates one by one, though a lot slower than they were before, because Peter is going to systematically retell the events of the Harry Potter series, book by book. They aren’t even his favorite, but he knows Bucky has been deprived of a lot, and Peter feels like here, in this world that seemingly belongs to them, he needs to start chipping away at that block of isolation. He tries to concentrate on the weird things Tony is saying too, just in case he plans on hiding what went on from him. Peter thinks all of this insanity is really improving his multitasking skills.

He tries not to get too discouraged by the fact that they’re still finding nothing. He makes himself look up at the ridiculous area expanding out in front of him—crates and crates and crates and crates. This place is probably the size of ten planets put together. They have thousands of crates to go through, more. They’re gonna find their people. They have to.

“…and then Ron has to sacrifice himself,” Peter says, pulling himself out of yet another empty crate. Maybe the people are so far away that they can’t hear or see them. He thinks he’s gonna have to convince Bucky to jump into one and move house. He doesn’t know if it’s a good idea.

“What?” Bucky asks, his eyes narrowed. He’s got his hands on a crate but he’s frozen, glaring over at Peter like what’s happening in Harry Potter is his fault. “Why?”

“It’s the whole point,” Peter says, warily. “Of the game, you know, he has to sacrifice himself so Harry can go through.”

“This is a kid’s book?” Bucky asks, and he looks personally offended.

“Just listen,” Peter says, holding out his hands. “That isn’t the end of the book—”

“It better not be.”

“ _Okay, pause. Jesus Christ, I’m trying to figure out how to save the world here and I’m listening to Spiderman’s retelling of the Sorcerer’s Stone._ ”

Peter rolls his eyes. “Bucky, I’ll tell you the rest later—”

“No, what—”

“Tony is complaining—”

“ _I’m not complaining—_ ”

And then, all at once, the box Bucky is standing on rattles, knocking him off his feet. Peter’s heart skips a couple beats as he watches Bucky unable to get his footing, and Peter tries to rush back too, bracing to catch him. Bucky knocks into him full bodied and they both tumble off the pyramid of crates, hitting some of the ones they’d already investigated. They hit and bump and cascade to the ground, and land hard, breaking one crate apart as Peter watches three or four other ones tumble down beside them.

“ _Peter—Peter, are you alright?_ ”

Peter groans, his heart beating so fast he can hardly think. The suit protected him, absorbed a lot of the shock, but his head is pounding from where it hit the ground. Bucky is beside him and Peter sits up, his vision a little wonky for a second. 

“Buck—” Peter says, crawling over to him. “Oh man—”

“ _Peter, answer me—_ ”

“I’m fine, I’m fine—”

“Peter,” Bucky says. “The crates—fuck, one of the ones we knocked—”

The crate is breaking apart, splintering wood, and it’s just feet from them, too close, way too close, and the spider legs wrench themselves out of Peter’s suit as he scurries backwards, faster than normal, but the monster, the one they saw before, crawls out of the crate faster than Peter has ever been able to move, two legs or six, and rushes at them. It has claws that Peter couldn’t see before with the brief glimpse they got, and it swipes him across his middle before he can even think straight, and then all he can think about is the pain.

“ _Peter?? Peter?? Jesus Christ, Steve, something’s happening—_ ”

Bucky yells when he sees what’s going on and Peter can’t let it get at him too—he follows, grabs its leg out from under it and hauls it back—it’s heavy, really heavy, and it tries to reach back and swipe at him again but the spider legs yank him back and away. He loses his grip on the monster’s leg and Bucky punches it once, disorienting it, before he takes its misshapen head in his hands and quickly, methodically, breaks its neck. It collapses on top of him, and Bucky pushes it off.

The legs retract and pull themselves back in, and Peter drops down again, clutching at his stomach. The blood is warm and sticky, and he breathes hard, a high pitched sound overlapping with Tony’s pleas.

“Kid—Peter, hey—” Bucky scrambles over, talking to him, and he turns Peter’s face towards him, his other hand on Peter’s stomach.

Peter thinks about Tony. He’s still yelling and he sounds more and more panicked with every passing second, and Peter doesn’t want that. This is about more than him—Aunt May is in here somewhere, and everyone else they lost. The whole damn world. He needs Tony to be on his A game. Ultimate Iron Man, and to have that he’s can’t have Peter distracting him like this. 

“Steve, the kid—”

Peter reaches out and grabs Bucky’s shoulder. He winces and tries not to make a noise, because this hurts, this fucking hurts, but he’s not gonna die. He’s not, he’s not—he’s totally dealt with worse. He meets Bucky’s eyes and he shakes his head. He mouths _please_ and shakes his head. He covers his heart with his hand and shakes his head again, trying to really, really drive it home that this isn’t a joke, he really wants to keep this one to himself, at least just for now. 

Bucky stares for a second and then he nods.

“ _Peter, if you don’t answer me right now, I’m gonna lose my fucking mind, what is going on?_ ”

“He’s fine,” Bucky says. “Steve, you hear me? Sorry, sorry—”

“Sorry,” Peter repeats, breathing hard. The claws struck out three long cuts in his stomach but they don’t seem too deep—once again, the suit came through, made it a lot better than it could have been. But Jesus, God, it hurts. Hurts when he breathes, so he tries to keep the breaths shallow.

“ _No sorry’s, hey, talk to me—_ ”

“We both fell, it’s embarrassing, but we’re okay,” Peter says, laughing a little bit, trying not to hiss too loud when Bucky hauls him carefully into a sitting position. 

“ _Are you sure?_ ” Tony asks, as Bucky exchanges a couple more words with Steve. “ _Once again, you were yelling up a storm, I ran out of the meeting—_ ”

“No, no, go back,” Peter says, holding his stomach again, leaning against the nearest crate that they didn’t manage to knock over.

“ _No, it’s—we’re pretty much done and I wanna talk to you about it._ ”

“Okay, one second,” Bucky says to Steve, and he kneels in front of Peter.

“ _Pete_?”

“Gimme one sec,” Peter says, trying not to gasp. There are hot tears at the corners of his eyes, and he feels so stupid.

Bucky holds Peter’s face in his hands and the metal arm is really cold, so Peter tries not to wince away. Bucky checks for more injuries but Peter shakes his head, he doesn’t feel anything else other than the bump on the back of his head. He motions with his chin towards Bucky, hoping he knows what he’s asking, but Bucky shakes his head in a negative. He turns his face and shows Peter a small cut on his neck, nothing to write home about, and he shrugs. Peter rolls his eyes in irritation that this fucking had to happen. 

“The one that moved,” Bucky whispers. “It’s still up there and I’m gonna go check it.”

Peter nods, and then he grabs Bucky’s arm again as he’s making to leave. He taps on his temple and pleads silently again, shaking his head. Code for _don’t tell Steve, he’ll tell Tony._

Bucky nods. 

“Careful,” Peter says. 

“ _Peter._ ”

“Yeah, yeah, Mr. Stark, I’m sorry, that was like…so dumb.” He feels a little dizzy and he looks down—the blood isn’t pouring out, which is good. He’s done worse as Spiderman out in Queens. The donut shop was worse. The dude with the cats was way worse. This sucks because he doesn’t have anything he can use as bandages, but he’s totally not gonna die. He’s just gonna suffer a little bit. But Tony doesn’t need to hear about it.

“ _You sure you’re okay?_ ” Tony asks, softly.

“Yeah, yeah—what’s going on?” Peter asks, looking up and over his shoulder at Bucky. He’s a little afraid another one of those monster things could come out, but it destroyed its crate when it attacked them. Peter wonders if that means the portal is closed. 

“ _I need like…more confirmation that you’re fine other than a brushed off yeah yeah, kid, since I can’t see you and all._ ”

Peter laughs a bit, which makes him see stars. Oh man. Keep it cool, Spiderman. “Uh—I don’t know what you want me to say….yes, Mr. Stark, A-Okay. Completely fine, uh—ship shape, one hundred percent, umm…what else…”

Tony sighs. “ _Alright, I guess I…I guess I gotta take it. Okay, uh—we got a couple answers, doesn’t make things easier but they’re a little clearer, at least. Captain Marvel’s name is Carol Danvers, she’s a badass and she’s gonna help us—well, she already has—Fury contacted her a little before he left us—uh, relevant things—our doctor here found you guys—_ ”

“What?” Peter nearly yells, and he has to cover his mouth to keep from crying out in pain. 

“ _Sorta—like kinda. She measured the energy signatures from Steve’s head and traced it out and it’s coming from this planet called Ammeg. But it made no sense, because the amount of people and beings that are supposed to be with you—well, if you’re all grouped together, you wouldn’t fit on that planet._ ”

Peter doesn’t know how he feels. It doesn’t make any sense. There has to be more to it. They’re not on a planet, they’re…in somewhere.

“ _And, well—yeah, that’s not the end of the story. This woman, she’s been keeping track of Thanos too, and things like him—but from a different perspective—uh, she’s seen this happen before, but in a different place, different ways—more than once—and she told us that the soul stone, when used like this—it becomes what she called a pocket dimension. And the souls it takes, it contains._ ”

Peter stares straight ahead. He presses his palm harder against his wound, and he closes his eyes. “Okay,” he says. “We’re—inside the soul stone.”

“ _If she’s right_ ,” Tony says. “ _Which I…which we all believe that she is._ ”

“Which means….Thanos is on this planet. Ammeg. And we’re—with him. Because he still has the gauntlet, right? And all the stones?”

“ _Unfortunately._ ”

Peter tries to think. The pain is making it unbearable. He looks up and sees Bucky up at the top of the crate pyramid where they were when they fell, and he feels useless down here. If something happens to him when he finds the crate that moved—ugh, Peter needs to help him. He can’t wrap his mind around what Tony is saying and he moves too sharply, sucking in a hitched breath. He gets dizzy and a whimper escapes him, which is like, the worst possible thing. 

“ _Peter, are you sure you’re—_ ”

“I’m just scared,” Peter says, his voice shaking. It’s not really a lie. But it’s also a distraction. Scared can be fixed, Tony can maybe fix scared by talking to him. Tony can’t fix an injury. Not from this distance. And that will only screw him up, make him crazy. So Peter sticks with scared. “I don’t know. This is all so…”

“ _I know, kid. I’m sorry. But we’re gonna get you. Like I was saying earlier, when you were being too cool for school, oh I’ve got this, Mr. Stark—_ ”

Peter laughs and tries not to jostle himself too much. 

“ _—but, uh, I was trying to say earlier, without getting too emotional, which I’ve been doing way too damn much lately—I want you to be careful because yeah, we’re coming to save the world, all our fallen heroes, so many people, but I, uh—well, I’ve got priorities._ ”

Peter sucks in a breath, nodding to himself. “I know.”

“ _Don’t want you getting hurt and like—you know, anything happening before I can swoop in and play the hero—_ ”

Peter smiles, but it’s strained, under the circumstances. “Okay, okay—”

“ _Don’t think I’m not gonna throw you and your aunt over both shoulders when I fly you out of there—_ ”

“Oh God—”

“ _Tony Stark saves Spiderman and his beautiful aunt, rest of world, story at twelve—Nobel Peace Prize incoming—Spiderman’s gratefulness unwavering—_ ”

“Okay, hero,” Peter says, and his heart feels a little calmer now. He looks up, still sees Bucky, hears the faint sound of his voice.

“ _But seriously. Please. For me. I can’t lose you, Pete. You gotta protect yourself, I can’t—I’m not there and that’s driving me insane, knowing you’re traipsing around sounding excited about monsters and shit when I can’t do anything about it. So stick with Barnes, stay on your guard—I know I told you to be wary of him, but he’s all you’ve got, so you gotta stay close._ ”

“He’s fine,” Peter says, trying to take a deep breath. “He’s great.”

“ _Alright, alright, stop drooling._ ”

Peter shakes his head. “But I get it. Don’t worry, please. It’s—we’re, uh—being super careful.” He’s such a bad liar. 

“ _Good_ ,” Tony says. “ _Because we’re coming to get you. We’ve got a plan._ ”

“What?” Peter asks, eyes going wide. “Really? Full blown plan?”

“ _Yeah, kid_ ,” Tony says. “ _Full blown plan._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I finally sat down and planned this thing out chapter by chapter, so as you can see, there will be fifteen of these bad boys. I saw Infinity War again last night (when will I stop) and I'll probably be seeing it twice more (seriously) because I've become patron saint of seeing it with people who don't have anybody else to go with and haven't seen it yet. 
> 
> The response to this has been well beyond what I expected. All of you are so, so great, and your comments give me life and keep me going. Thanks for the amazing words and I hope you enjoy this one! I'm gonna try to do justice to Carol and her powers because I only know what I've read, but I'm entirely making up what I think she was doing before/during Infinity War. Hopefully it works for everybody :) I love Brie Larson to death so I can't wait to meet this character.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ao3 kinda ate my last chapter the other night when the servers were down and I tried to push it up again, but it never seemed to take hold and I think only a few people saw it. So if you missed chapter seven, make sure to read it before this one :)

Tony sits with Steve, Pepper and Carol in one of the dining rooms. The room is large, one crystalline square table in the corner, the walls lined with windows, showing off all the silver and green. Tony likes it in Wakanda—a lot—and he wishes the circumstances were different so he could actually enjoy it. Plus, the missing king brings the whole mood down a lot, and he wishes Barnes and the kid would find T’Challa in there so Tony could bring some kind of happiness here.

The kid. Tony is listening for every little hitch in Peter’s breath because he doesn’t fucking trust him. Not now, not with this, he knows Peter’s mind and the way he thinks and it feels like something is up. It stresses him out more than he can say, but he’s trying to keep quiet about it. He hopes Bucky will fucking inform them if something is seriously wrong with Peter. Not that they can do anything about it yet, anyway.

Tony dragged Steve along to this lunch, and he knows he doesn’t necessarily want to be here, but Tony watches him push his cabbage close to his carrots and keep an ear out. For the room and for Bucky, too. This connection thing has created a connection between the two of them as well, forged after hard times in more hard times. Not one that either of them expected, but one at least Tony can say he’s been wishing for, on the down low. Captain America and Iron Man, back on the same side. Steve was always this unattainable ideal, while Tony was growing up. It drove him crazy, but it drove him to be better, too. Competition always got a rise out of him. Having the man himself at his side was a different kind of motivator. 

He’d never say it out loud, but Steve definitely makes him feel stronger. And now that they’re both in the same boat—another unexpected, insanity-laden situation—it’s made him feel closer to Steve, and a little farther from everybody else.

“So you think you can—you think you can take him out?” Pepper asks Carol, a waver in her voice. She’s been on edge since everything happened. Understandably. 

“Yes,” Carol says, without hesitation. “Not to—well, not to put the two of you down—”

“No offense taken,” Tony says. “I like people who can take care of business, whether I bombed at it or not.”

“Same here,” Steve says. “We just want things back the way they were. And we want Thanos out of the equation.”

“Well, he’s much weaker now,” Carol says, taking a sip of her drink, which may or may not be straight vodka. Tony isn’t sure. She’s definitely a presence in the room, and it’s like she’s drawing all the energy in. “The gauntlet should be destroyed, but the stones are intact. We just gotta get them away from him, we can’t kill him until we do that—”

“We should already have our own at that point,” Steve says, the sentence half statement, half question. 

“Yes,” Carol says. “That’s the only way this will work. Everything needs to happen around the same time, one thing after the other after the other. We’ll take the whole gauntlet, kick his ass, send him to kingdom come, and lock the stones away. Well—all of them but the soul stone.”

Ah. The plan. Tony exchanges a look with Steve because so much of it hinges on them—all of it, really, which was semi-unexpected. Tony never would have imagined he and Steve would be so intertwined that they’d both have to wield a gauntlet type thing—with its own set of infinity stones from an alternate universe—to save everybody they lost. It seemed like a fucking joke when Carol first said it, but the more details she provided, the more real it became.

Pepper isn’t thrilled, which is why this lunch became a thing to begin with. 

“They have to reverse the snap,” Carol says, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, “at the same time that I destroy the original soul stone, right after we kill Thanos. We have a small window once everything is in motion, but it’s big enough. That should do it. I’ll be in your ears, so we can time it right. Don’t worry, Pepper, your man is gonna be far from Thanos, so no more stabbing—”

Tony sucks in a breath at the memory, and Steve’s head nearly snaps as he turns to look at him. Tony realizes he hadn’t mentioned it. Hmm.

Pepper also has a less than happy look on her face and she twists the ring on her finger. “Yeah, that’d be good.”

“We’ll take Thanos out, and Steve and Tony will be in the exact spot here where he did it originally. That’s the recipe.”

“You’ve done this before?” Pepper asks.

Carol’s eyes flash and she purses her lips. There’s a lot she isn’t telling them. A lot, a whole ton, but Tony doesn’t pry. She reminds him a lot of Fury, and he wonders just how much time they spent together. She’s way too young for the research he’s done, and there’s a lot more than meets the eye here. But Tony, for once, is gonna chill the fuck out and let things happen. She obviously knows what she’s talking about, and she’s legit. Once he’s got Peter and the rest of the world back, he’s gonna grill her for all she’s worth. 

“In a way,” Carol says. She points at Tony and Steve then, shaking her head. “But this phenomenon—this I haven’t seen. So that’s why I know it has to be them to wield the gauntlet. Which won’t be a glove this time—Thor is gonna figure out something different that can harness all the stones, that they can both hang on to at the same time—I’ve seen all kinds of things used. It’ll probably be kinda heavy, though.”

“Think we can manage that,” Steve says, looking at Tony.

“Definitely yes,” Tony says. 

“You think we’ll be able to wield the stones?” Steve asks. “I know it’s supposedly nearly impossible for regular beings—”

“But you aren’t regular beings,” Carol says, leaning back in her chair. “Neither one of you. You’re extraordinary, and you’ve been chosen. You have a connection to the stones, so you have that strength inherent. It’s said that the soul stone has a sort of wisdom, so I believe it knows, in every incarnation, what’s at stake. Now that all six of them have been used to do something like this, it’ll want to fight back. Especially when there’s so much fight left in it—in the form of your friends and family. The stones are connected, in every universe. One in the same, a shadow of themselves, a reflection.” 

Tony blows out a breath, but all of this feels way too deep for him. He just wants to blow some shit up, punch the purple guy in the face, and get his kid back.

Carol takes another sip of her drink. “Sorry for waxing poetic. I’ve watched a lot of this stuff go down. I know who can wield those stones—but you two gotta do it together. That’s the only way it’s gonna work. The vessel Thor gets will help. He doesn’t seem to think it’s gonna be any trouble to get it for you.”

Steve nods, but he doesn’t seem convinced. 

Tony has to be. This is their chance. He listens to Peter jabbering on to Bucky. 

“Gimme one—one second,” Tony says, looking at everybody. “If you get dessert I demand to be included—I am coming back—” He quickly gets out of his seat and walks towards the hallway. “Pete?” It’s been like twenty minutes without direct communication, which is too much for him. Peter has still been talking to Bucky about Harry Potter, which Tony is trying to tune out, but he doesn’t want Peter to think he’s not paying attention. “Peter?” he asks, feeling a little lost.

“ _Hey, hey, Mr. Stark, you want me to stop talking about Harry Potter again? I was trying to be quieter but going through these boxes can get super boring, especially since we’re not finding anything—_ ”

“No, no, you’re fine,” Tony says. “I just wanted to check in.” The kid still sounds off, Tony can’t put his finger on it, but he’s definitely hiding something from him. Tony can’t imagine what. The only thing he can think of is that Peter is hurt, but he knows he’s not gonna get answers if Peter is intent on hiding it. Especially with this arrangement.

He wants to get this fucking plan in motion so he can find him, already.

“ _Oh, we’re good_ ,” Peter says, and he clears his throat. It sounds mechanical, polished, very purposeful. Tony’s had that a lot—when it hurts to breathe, you have to breathe a certain way, speak a certain way, move a certain way. Everything is calculated. And Peter sounds like he’s doing exactly that right now. “ _Uh, still haven’t found anything, but we’ll tell you as soon as we do…kinda feel like this whole pile was like—I don’t know, the evil pile or the distraction pile or something. We’re hoping for more luck with the next one._ ”

“Yeah, get through the evil pile—you slept, right kid?”

“ _Yeah, yeah, we both did—not for long, I mean, I slept longer than Bucky but I feel like he’s used to not sleeping that much._ ”

Tony crosses his arms over his chest. “A sixteen year old needs eight to ten hours of sleep a night, Parker, I know I’ve cited this fact to you before—”

“ _Well, I’m getting along without eating so far, so, I think I’m good._ ”

Now that makes Tony feel like shit. He hopes this world is not like a regular place, and the effects on the kid aren’t going to be like if he was kidnapped and held somewhere. Thinking of Peter starving to death while they’re fucking around here planning makes Tony feel dizzy, close to a panic attack.

“Remember all the pizza you’re gonna have,” Tony says, hoping it’s the right thing to say, hoping it doesn’t make Peter hungrier than he already is.

“ _I can’t wait_ ,” Peter says, and Tony sighs. He thinks about asking how Peter is feeling, what his hunger levels are, if he’s dehydrated, how he feels when he wakes up, if he’s feeling weak or sick or what. But then Peter speaks again. “ _So when are you gonna tell me the whole plan?_ ”

“Uh, in a bit,” Tony says, wiping at his eyes, watching some people drag some kind of chocolate thing into the dining room. It makes him feel guilty because Peter deserves that chocolate thing. Peter deserves to see Wakanda. Peter would love Wakanda. They’d love him too. Because who doesn’t love the kid? He needles and he presses and he gives you those eyes and suddenly you’re a melty pile of goo that wants to design him a new suit and make up a room for him and buy his way into college. 

“ _Super excited to meet this new superhero!_ ”

“Yeah, she’s great,” Tony says, picking at the skin on his thumbs. “Gonna pound that purple dickhead into mush like we all wanted to.”

“ _Good._ ”

And Peter Parker isn’t a killer, Peter Parker is good and kind and if the fact that he wants this guy dead doesn’t speak to what a fucker Thanos is, then nothing does. 

Peter groans a little bit, his breath catching. 

Tony cracks his jaw, his throat tight. “Okay, kid, what are you hiding from me?”

“ _Nothing._ ” Too fast. 

“You’ve been groaning like you’re in pain and frankly I’m offended you think I’m stupid enough not to notice.”

“ _I don’t think you’re stupid!_ ”

“Uh huh, uh huh—”

“ _I’m fine! Fine, fine, fine. Just helping Bucky and like, my legs are sore from making the same movements over and over again, bending down for these crates, you know? And I’m like, frustrated because we’re not finding anybody. And yeah—okay, maybe I’m a little bruised from the fall. That’s it. That’s all._ ”

Tony stares at the far wall. He steps a little closer to the door and looks through it—Pepper and Carol seem like they’re in deep conversation, but Steve is a few paces away from the table, talking to Bucky. Hopefully. Either that or he’s having a serious argument with himself.

“You sure?” Tony asks. “You’re not lying to me?”

“ _Definitely bruised_ ,” Peter says. 

“Peter.”

“ _Yup_.” Then he gasps, and Tony’s eyes snap up when he does it—he sees Steve stagger back a little bit like he heard something similar. 

“What?” Tony asks. “What, what?”

“ _Oh my God—Bucky—help!_ ”

A wave of dizziness runs through Tony and he grips his chest. “Need an answer,” he says. “Communication is key!”

“ _Mr. Stark, there’s a cat! A cat, an orange cat! In this crate! Just walking around! Oh my God—Bucky, hold my feet—_ ”

“A cat,” Tony says, staring up at Steve. Steve looks over at him too and his mouth forms the words _a cat_. They’re on the same fucking page.

“ _Bucky—you got me? Hold tight—_ ”

“Peter I swear to God if you’re dangling into some empty crate void for an orange cat—”

“ _I’ve got him, I’ve got him! Oh my God!_ ” Peter laughs, laughs and laughs and laughs, and the sound is so joyful, loud and full of hope. Tony lets out a breath and he can’t help but smile. He looks up, sees that Steve is smiling too.

“Shit,” Tony breathes, walking back into the room, striding over to where Steve is standing.

“ _Oh my God, Mr. Stark, his name is Elvis—this is the best cat I’ve ever seen in my entire life._ ”

“Cat,” Steve says, but he looks unbearably fond. “They’re excited.”

“That’s good, Pete,” Tony says, blowing out a breath. “Good—see? Not just monsters. It’s a start. Next up is people.”

“ _Mr. Stark he’s purring! This is so great!_ ”

Tony smiles and horrifyingly, tears are stinging at his eyes. He wipes them away before they can fall and Steve claps him on the shoulder, laughing breathlessly. Tony turns towards the table and sees that both Pepper and Carol are looking at them. Pepper looks alarmed, which Tony needs to take care of, quick. “They found a cat,” he says, like he’s announcing his immortality, or that the world is saved. 

Carol’s face lights up. “That’s great!” she says. “I love cats. And it’ll help with morale.”

“Good,” Pepper says, smiling softly. She knows Peter from what Tony has passed on through the years, and she knows this is the perfect Peter thing to lift his spirits and thus Tony’s in return. The look on her face is beautiful. Peter is still laughing. They’ve got a superwoman telling them what to do and they’ve got a plan. Steve Rogers, against all fucking odds, is standing by his side.

And there’s a cat. There’s an orange cat.

~

Pepper is sitting in Tony’s lap in their room and they’re playing the stupid playlist he made her after the whole thing with Killian—he’d plopped in anything with the word _love_ in the title to make her laugh, and right now the mood is kinda off because Taylor Swift is playing, but Pepper likes it, so that’s all that matters.

Peter is about halfway through the third Harry Potter book, and Tony is really trying not to listen. He braces his hand on the desk and presses the sharpie down onto the thick paper he’d stolen from Shuri’s lab. 

_SO TOMORROW MORNING WE’RE GONNA HAVE A BIGASS BREAKFAST, THEN STEVE AND I ARE GONNA HEAD OUT TO THE WORMHOLE POINT—THOR IS GONNA HEAD OFF AT THE SAME TIME TO GET OUR WEAPON GAUNTLET WHATEVER—IT’D TOTALLY BE FUNNY IF WE BOTH HAD TO STICK OUR HANDS INTO A GAUNTLET TOGETHER BUT SUPER DIFFICULT TO MANAGE—GLAD DANVERS IS ON THE UP AND UP ON THAT FRONT. HOPEFULLY IT’S SOMETHING COOL._

He slams the sharpie down. Pepper sighs and reads his note. She blinks up at him, running her thumb along the back of his neck. 

“Why are you yelling?” she asks, smiling.

He stares at her, narrowing his eyes. She laughs and he shrugs. 

“You want any particular kind of breakfast?” she asks. “I could try and make something, but you know how that goes.”

He fakes shivering, gritting his teeth, and she whacks him on the shoulder. He leans over, writing again. _No, the food here is awesome, we’ll just do that. I don’t know how T’Challa didn’t gain a million pounds eating this stuff._

Pepper smiles, nods and meets his eyes again. “Why aren’t you letting Peter hear any of this? You’re gonna tell him, right?”

Tony nods. He holds tight to her waist, scribbling down another answer. _I’m gonna tell him the whole plan in a couple minutes here, before we both go to sleep—he’s been bothering me all day but I don’t wanna give him too much time to think about it. He’s not gonna like it._

She reads, chews on her lip, and gives him a look. “Don’t blame him,” she says. He must have a strange expression on his face because she cups his cheek, sighing. “But I know you’ve got to—do what you need to do. I guess I’ve always known that this is who you are, I just—”

Tony taps the paper and Pepper watches him write. _Nothing is gonna happen in this alternate universe, it’s totally blown out already—we’re just gonna get the stones, come back here, and stand there waiting to cast our spell with our weapon or whatever—then we’re gonna do that, it’s gonna be over, she and the rest of the team will have taken the original gauntlet and killed that asshole already—we get our friends back, I get my kid back, Steve gets his BFF back and we’re all good._

Pepper smiles, snatches the sharpie away from him, and underlines the word _my._

Tony’s face colors. He rolls his eyes. He takes the marker from her and tries to cross it out but she grabs it back just as fast.

“It’s sweet,” she says. She leans in and kisses his cheek, and he closes his eyes. “You’re sweet.”

“No, I’m salty,” Tony says. 

Pepper shakes her head. “You are—the biggest pile of goo. Of mush. You are a marshmallow.”

“Oops, I’m using real out loud words.”

“Guess it’s time,” Pepper says.

Peter is talking about time travel, about Hermione being the best student in her class, getting really really loud about how Harry probably would have died a million times over if not for Hermione, and Tony wonders how this kid got to be such a nerd.

Tony sighs. He leans in and kisses Pepper, tries to pour all of his feelings into it, tries to be the best version of himself for once, for her. 

She holds his face in her hands when the kiss breaks. “Tony. Tony, it’s gonna be fine.”

“Oh, you changing your mind?” he asks her.

“No, I didn’t—I mean, of course I’m worrying about you, I’ll always worry about you, I worry when you take a corner too fast—”

“Okay, good to know, faith—”

“But this—well, this guy made it dead personal for you,” she says. “And I know what you’re like when it’s personal.”

“Exactly,” Tony says, and he kisses her again.

“You just be careful,” Pepper whispers against his lips. “Every single step of the way.”

“I will,” he says. “I always am.”

“Mhm. You better be. Because if anything happens…I’m coming to get you.”

It seems like a threat and a promise and he remembers her in the Iron Man suit and pulsing with Extremis and he knows she’s probably capable of tearing the whole universe apart to bring him back to her. 

He quirks up one eyebrow and she matches him. 

“Noted,” he says.

~

A few minutes later he’s back out in the hall where he first heard Peter, and for a minute he just stands there leaning against the wall, listening to the kid get more and more animated talking about Harry and Hermione rescuing Sirius Black.

Tony is a giant marshmallow. 

His phone buzzes. He pulls it out of his pocket and sees a message from Steve, typed like a formal letter because he’s still getting a hang of texting.

_I am going to pull Bucky aside now, to tell him the details of the plan. Doing the same for Peter? – Steve._

Tony doesn’t know why he’s so nervous about this. Pepper did well, a lot better than she normally does when he’s about to do something dangerous. And it’s not like Peter can stop him. Tony is doing this _for him_. And everybody else, yeah. But the kid yammering on and on about Harry Potter in his head is the damn reason. Seems like the soul stone knew it too.

So, so weird.

_Dearest Steve,_

_Yes._

_Love, Tony_

He puts his phone back into his pocket and sighs. Then he hears Peter say “ _oh, yeah, sure_ ” and Tony figures Steve is telling Bucky the details now. 

He lets out a breath. “Hey kid?”

“ _Hey, Mr. Stark. You okay?_ ”

Tony shakes his head. Why the hell is Peter always worried about him? Oh, maybe because all the adult figures in his life have been taken from him, and now May is lost somewhere in this shitty scary world that he’s trapped in too. Maybe that’s why.

Tony sorta definitely hates himself. “Yeah, yeah, you?”

“ _Well we’re taking a break because Bucky is talking to Steve all important and serious, so now I’m sitting here with Elvis. I’ve been super paranoid he’s gonna like run away because this place is so big, but he’s been hanging around, thank God._ ”

“Good, good,” Tony says, and he hadn’t even thought about the cat bailing on Peter and what that would do, so he’s glad it’s not betraying them just yet. “So plan time. Full disclosure.” He panics for five seconds—they’re with fucking Thanos, can he hear them? He shakes his head. There’s no way. That feels too unlucky. He probably doesn’t even know they’re in the fucking stone, he’s such an idiot prick.

“ _Ah, yes!_ ”

“Okay,” Tony says, starting to pace, He wrings his hands together. “Um—okay—full story—Carol has access to these wormholes and they go to alternate universes—”

“ _Oh man—this is like Star Trek—_ ”

“Yes,” Tony says, fast, before the kid can start debating between Original Series or Deep Space Nine or whatever the hell else there is. “So tomorrow—uh, Steve and I are going to this alternate universe that has already been decimated, completely, uh—there’s no saving it—but there are still infinity stones present there, so we’re gonna go get them. Thor is gonna go make a vessel that can harness power like Thanos’s gauntlet, that both Steve and I can wield together with all the stones—then Carol and just about everybody else we still have are gonna go kick Thanos’s weakened ass, kill him, and then Steve and I are gonna do some magic spell here in Wakanda in the same spot he did his initial evil spell—Carol is gonna destroy the soul stone at the same time—that shit works together—boom—you’re back where you belong, so is May, so is Bucky, so is this cat, so we’ll have to get you…another cat, when you’re back.”

Peter is silent.

“Pete, you there?” Tony asks, rubbing his chest. “Wires crossed? You hear me?”

“ _Uh, just…processing._ ”

“It’s gonna be totally fine,” Tony says, walking over to the window. 

“ _What if there are still bad things in the other universe?_ ” Peter asks. “ _Like bad things that can get you and kill you._ ”

“We’re gonna be very in and out,” Tony says. “She knows where the stones are, they’re all grouped together where the last person that tried to use them died—”

“ _How did they die?_ ” Peter’s voice is starting to waver.

“Um, unsure, Carol didn’t really tell us the details of the end of the world there—”

“ _What if they died because they weren’t able to wield the stones?_ ” Peter asks. Breathing harder now. 

“I doubt that’s why,” Tony says, even though he has absolutely no idea. “Listen kid, it doesn’t matter, it’s gonna work, we’re gonna get you out, this is a solid plan—”

“ _You guys could die trying to wield all six stones, they’re too powerful—oh God—_ ”

“Peter, we’re gonna have a weapon or gauntlet or double glove or whatever the hell Thor is gonna get us, it’s going to harness the power, all we gotta do is hold it. And Steve is Captain America, c’mon—”

“ _Why does it have to be you?_ ” Peter asks. He lets out a pinched groan and Tony flashes to moments of anger, panic, when he was full of cuts and bruises and every raised tone made it feel like he was opening himself up more. 

“Pete, I know something happened to you, I know you’re hiding some kind of injury from me—”

“ _Stop worrying about me! I’m just sitting here holding a cat, you’re the one running off to some alternate reality that’s all messed up. Will you even be able to hear me there?_ ”

“I mean, probably—”

“ _You don’t know. You could get trapped there and I’d never know it. I’d only know because you’d never come._ ”

“I’m not gonna get trapped.”

Peter breathes hard, and it almost sounds like defiant breathing. Tony is totally reading into everything, but he tries to cut himself some slack.

“Peter.” If he was here, Tony would shake him. Gently. “Relax. Relax.” Peter doesn’t respond but Tony can still hear him huffing and puffing. “This is what—listen, I get it, I know how hard it is to be benched, I know you’re worried, but we’re gonna be fine. We’re gonna be good, it’s a piece of cake. I need you to stay focused. Carol said if you stay focused, our connection will be stronger.” Total bullshit. He has no idea how he manages to come up with such total bullshit all the time.

“ _She did?_ ” Peter asks.

“Yup.” Liar. Gigantic liar.

Peter makes a little pained noise.

“Peter—”

“ _Tony._ ”

Tony narrows his eyes. Not what he expected to hear, and it throws him off his game. 

“ _I don’t—I mean, if this is a plan that makes you die then—I want another plan._ ”

Tony sighs. “Kid, did you catch the part where Steve and I are literally gonna be standing here in Wakanda while everybody else goes to kick Thanos’s ass? That’s about as sideline as you can get—”

“ _Having the stones can kill you—_ ”

“I’ve had stones my whole life—”

“ _No, not funny._ ”

Tony sighs. “This is the plan, Pete. I swear to you, I’m not going to die. One hundred and fifty, remember? I’m nowhere near close to that.”

Peter is quiet. Tony knows he’s sitting there suffering, knows he’s panicking, knows he did some kinda shit to himself that’s serious enough to hide from him. Tony wants to know, but he doesn’t want to know. He needs to know, but he hates that the kid knows him so well to understand he’ll probably lose his shit about not being able to do anything. Even if he doesn’t want to lose his shit. He’s been working on that. Trying to control the emotional reactions. He knows he has to keep Peter in one piece because one, Aunt May would tear him apart if they restored the world and somehow Peter didn’t make it back whole, and two—well, he can’t deal with anything happening to the kid. That’s already established.

“ _You just—you gotta swear you’ll talk to me the entire time you’re in this alternate reality or whatever. You gotta focus too._ ”

“Promise,” Tony says. “I swear. I’ll give you the whole tour.”

Peter sighs heavily. 

“Don’t give me the heavy sighs, that’s my thing.”

“ _Okay._ ”

Tony’s eyes dart back and forth. The hallway shines in silver light and his heart really is beating too fast. He wonders if having his own kid is gonna be this stressful. Probably yeah definitely, but his own kid is never, ever allowed to be a superhero. 

“It’s gonna be fine,” Tony says. “I’ll see you soon! Real soon! Like tomorrow or day after tomorrow. Definitely by the day after that!”

“ _Okay,_ ” Peter says, sounding a little more optimistic. “ _Okay, I’ll…I’ll see you then. I will definitely see you then._ ”

Tony doesn’t pray a lot. Or ever. But he’s praying now.


	9. Chapter 9

Trying to sleep in here isn’t the best, but Bucky has been in worse situations. He sticks close to Peter once Steve’s voice quiets, and watches Elvis the cat wander around like he has things to do before he spins around a couple times, scratches at the ground, and curls up by Peter’s legs. Bucky hovers around, staring at Peter’s wound for a couple minutes before he gives up and lays down a little behind him. 

He knows the scratches don’t look good. He’d pulled off strips of his pant leg to wrap around them, but it was hard to make them the right size, and they made it a little harder for Peter to breathe, so he took them off. Bucky gets it, the not telling Tony thing, and Peter is becoming an expert at communicating with him in silence—worse yet, Bucky is becoming an expert at reading his expressions. So he knows Tony suspects, is basically sure something happened, but Peter still insists on keeping it quiet.

They’re both not big fans of the plan.

No, that’s an understatement.

He’d tried to keep his voice down when Steve was telling him but he wound up yelling anyway, pointing and gesturing like Steve was right in front of him and could see him, but Bucky wasn’t thinking straight. Steve has told him some of the stories of what he went through when Bucky was gone, and all of them make Bucky’s blood boil. He doesn’t like thinking about Steve so close to death, and this new fucking adventure seems to put him and Stark right in the thick of it. He doesn’t know why they think otherwise.

Peter seemed especially down once his conversation with Stark ended, and Steve had kept trying to pipe in before Bucky told him to get to sleep, since he had such important shit to do in the morning. 

Now, Bucky seethes. He silently panics. He laments how goddamn sidelined he is here when Steve is literally walking into some kind of apocalypse world. He listens to Peter’s breathing.

He definitely sounds like he’s in pain and Bucky wonders if he’s getting worse. He wonders if there’s some kind of infection. He knows the kid needs antibiotics. He knows they need to wash the wound out. This is literally the worst fucking place to get hurt and of course he has a kid to look after, and of course that kid gets hurt right in front of him. It reminds him of watching Steve, before things changed, marking down every breath and wince and grimace. Peter getting hurt feels totally in line with everything that’s happening lately, and he can imagine what Stark will think if something permanent happens to the kid. Bucky, surprisingly, feels sick thinking about it, and not because he’d be letting yet another person down. Because he likes the kid. Because the kid is good, and kind hearted. Because he’s something Bucky recognizes as a real hero.

He sees a dark landscape. Steve and Stark suited up, ready to go. Then the darkness attacks them. Makes them bleed. Breaks them apart. Bucky can hear the kid screaming somewhere but he can’t move, someone is holding him down and he can’t move, he can’t think, all he can see is Steve struggling, Steve fighting, gasping, blood, blood, blood—

He wakes up with a start, thrashing, looking around. The kid isn’t there. Just the cat, sitting beside him, licking itself. It looks up at him and almost seems to glare.

“Peter?” Bucky asks, looking around. Jesus, what the hell time is it, Jesus, they could be gone already, fuck, fuck. “Steve?”

“ _Hey, hey, I’m here. We’re on our way to the checkpoint._ ”

“And you weren’t gonna fucking say anything?” Bucky asks, struggling to his feet and looking around. Peter isn’t on the ‘evil pile’ (what he’d been calling it) and Bucky’s heart nearly rips itself from his chest. “Steve, is Stark talking to Peter?”

“ _Yeah, why, what’s wrong?_ ”

“I don’t see him,” Bucky says. He bends down, picks up the cat and drapes it over his shoulder, and strides towards the next set of crates. He still doesn’t see the kid and he’s about to completely lose it.

“ _Tony, can you get Peter to yell or something? Bucky can’t find him._ ”

“Oh! Hey!” Peter yells, and Bucky turns around the edge of one of the other piles and sees Peter up high, close to the top of the pyramid. 

“What are you doing?” Bucky asks, throwing out one arm and holding onto the cat with the other. “Christ, scared me to death.”

“Where did you think I went?” Peter calls, his voice echoing.

“God knows,” Bucky says, shaking his head. “Apparently we’re going all kinds of weird places today.”

“ _Alright_ ,” Steve says. 

Bucky rubs at his eyes and stares up at Peter. “What are you doing up there?” he asks. “Wasn’t it a…difficult climb?” He’s trying to communicate without communicating. They’re too far away for Peter’s dramatic facial expressions.

“I thought I heard something,” Peter says, gesturing to the crates. “I’ve been picking them up and turning them upside down to see if that does anything, but nothing’s happened yet.”

Bucky actually feels close to Stark in that moment, because he understands what a pain in the ass it is to try and parent this kid. Seems like no matter what, he’s gonna do his own thing. Bucky hears Steve talking to Tony, and it sounds like they’re flying the jet. His heart beats faster and he doesn’t want to think about this happening. There’s no way to fucking ignore it though, and he just feels surlier and surlier as time moves on.

“Come down,” he whispers, hopefully loud enough for Peter to hear. He clutches his middle and points to Peter and shakes his head, and then he points to the spot on the ground next to him.

Peter makes a face and then the four spider legs pop out and support him—he pulls his legs up and hovers there, giving Bucky a look. 

Bucky glares at him. 

Peter gestures behind him. “I have all of this to look through,” he says, really quiet. “I heard something—” He starts a little bit, putting his feet back on the ground, and looks off to the side. “No, Mr. Stark—yeah, yeah, it’s fine—are you there yet?”

“Are you there yet?” Bucky asks too, gritting his teeth. “Weird you have to fucking fly to a wormhole, can’t you just open another wormhole to get there?”

“ _Wouldn’t that be too easy?_ ” Steve asks. “ _We’re not far out. Another few minutes. Thor already went ahead to start the forge, he brought his axe with him, he won’t tell us but I have a feeling it’s not the easiest process to make this weapon._ ”

“I’m sure he can manage it,” Bucky says, looking up at Peter, who still seems to be talking to Tony. “He’s a God, right?”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Steve says. “ _I guess nothing is easy for anyone._ ”

Bucky doesn’t say anything. He really wants to yell at Peter to get the hell down and hang out down here like they’ve been doing, he doesn’t know why the kid feels the need to exert himself when he could just hurt himself more. His stubbornness is goddamn offensive right now. 

The cat is purring and Bucky sighs, standing straight as it nudges into the side of his head. He puts it down on the ground and it starts meowing at him, knocking against his legs. 

“ _Are you gonna be like…same as last night, or…_ ”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Do you mean am I gonna start yelling at you again?”

“ _You weren’t exactly yelling, it was more…stern…_ ”

“Because I didn’t want goddamn Peter to hear me,” Bucky says, storming back the way he came.

“ _We’re landing,_ ” Steve says. “ _Gimme a second before more yelling._ ”

Bucky stops in his tracks. Yeah, he doesn’t want Steve here in this place, but he doesn’t want Steve doing what he’s doing right now, either. This is the most frustrating bullshit ever, and he wants to tear a hole in this reality, grab Peter and the damn cat and get the fuck out of here. 

He walks back towards where Peter is, and sees he’s still talking to Tony. Bucky waves at him to get his attention, and hears the cat running along behind him. 

“Peter,” Bucky says. “Hey.”

“Huh?”

“Come down.”

“I still gotta find the thing.”

“What thing?” Bucky asks, his chest welling up with anger and exasperation. 

“The voices! I gotta—okay, Mr. Stark—”

“Please come down, Peter, you’re literally killing me, I’ll do the looking—”

“Just come up!” Peter says. “You can help me look.”

Bucky sighs, sees he’s getting nowhere, and he bends down, petting the cat to get its attention. “You stay around here where we can see you, okay? Okay, Elvis?” 

The cat just looks at him, blinking, and Bucky hopes his owners were good and taught him how to stay. Bucky sighs again, eternally fucking sighing, and he starts climbing up the crates, trying to keep his balance. They’re steep as shit and he gets more irritated as he gets higher, thinking of Peter doing this. He hopes he used the weird spider legs.

He hasn’t heard from Steve in too long, which means they’re being quiet, which means something could have gone wrong.

“Steve?”

“ _Buck, I’m sorry—we’re uh…we’re here already, we made it through._ ”

Bucky stops and sucks in a breath, his eyelids fluttering closed. He looks up at Peter and he’s quiet and still too, probably receiving the same news, and Bucky is angry and relieved at the same time. “Why didn’t you say anything?” he breathes.

“ _Didn’t wanna panic you._ ”

Panic lives inside him now. It has since those goddamn space dogs started overrunning the king’s guard, since there were four on top of him and trying to rip into him, since he thought he knew the last word he’d ever speak, since he thought he’d been dropped into a goddamn dark purgatory. Now it’s worse. Now there’s a kid. A hurt kid. Now Steve and the kid’s surrogate dad are in an alternate reality.

Too far. Too damn far away.

“Steve—shit, panic me? Panic me? Peter told me he asked Tony to tell him everything, the whole tour, and that’s what I want too, goddamnit. Panic me? Uh, yeah, sorry, that’s gonna happen no matter what. I’m here and you’re there—somewhere fucking else, that could be the end of you, and I could be here in void land listening to the end of you—me and this damn kid who’s injured and not listening to one goddamn word I say.” 

A chill runs through him and he realizes what he said, and he’s instantly transported back to school when secrets were a real thing, and he’d blurted out to Michelle that Steve thought she was the bee’s knees and maybe he’d done it on purpose, maybe, but he definitely felt bad about it.

He looks up at Peter. He didn’t hear, he’s still talking to Tony, clutching his middle. The spider legs aren’t out anymore.

“Fuck, okay,” Bucky says, his cheeks heating up. He can hear Steve breathing. 

“ _Uh...sorry. That last part._ ”

“You heard me.” It’s a question and a statement.

“ _Yeah._ ”

“Don’t let on to Stark. Please. I’ll tell you, but don’t let on, kid’s been trying real hard to keep it on the down low and I fucking blurted it out because—you—panicked me.” He closes his eyes and shakes his head. He wants details. He wants to know what this place looks like. He wants to track every step Steve takes, because there’s been enough time like this, enough space and time and universes between them. Enough goddamn danger. Too much. He wants peace. He wants closeness and…anything fucking else but this.

He focuses on the kid.

He speaks in hushed tones, because he knows Steve can hear every hitch in his breath, anyway. “That monster? Alien thing? When we fell, we knocked its crate over, and it came toppling out and fucking attacked Peter. Three good slashes across his stomach. It jumped on me too but only nicked me, and then I killed it and dumped its stupid body into one of the empty crates. I know you can’t say anything—just—he’s not dying, but it isn’t good, either. He’s suffering. He’s a pain in the ass because he’s still trying to exert himself…finding the cat only made him wanna look harder. But shit—I mean, I know you guys can’t help us. Which is why he doesn’t wanna say anything. He doesn’t wanna distract Tony, even though I think Tony already has an idea.” He lets out a breath. Looks up at the kid.

“Oh man, you think the sun went out?” Peter asks.

Christ.

“ _Tony_ ,” Steve says. “ _Can you contact Bruce and see how it’s going with Scott? I know it would be good if he could manage to get in there and see them, like they were thinking he might be able to. Peace of mind for us and them. Plus it’d make the signal stronger, help with the location tracking._ ”

“What…are you talking about?” Bucky asks.

Steve is still talking to Tony, but it’s clearly for Bucky’s benefit. “ _I know you know a lot more about the quantum realm than I do, but if he thinks he can get there—_ ”

Bucky’s heart is rattling in his chest. He looks up at Peter, who’s looking down at him. Bucky climbs a little higher so he can reach him, and when he does Peter looks kinda pale, and kinda nervous. He taps on his head and looks at Bucky in question, and Bucky shrugs. 

“Are you, uh, saying someone can get in here?” Bucky asks, looking at Peter. 

“ _Maybe_ ,” Steve says. “ _Scott just learned a lot about how to traverse the realm, got Janet back before Hank and Hope dusted—he’s been working with Bruce since we found out where you guys are. It’d be good, uh—if he could come in. He wouldn’t be able to bring anybody out, but he might be able to bring things in._ ” 

Bucky gets what he’s saying. Medical supplies. Maybe even food. Shit, he doesn’t get it, but hopefully this Scott guy, whoever he is, knows what the hell he’s doing. The kid could really do with some actual medicine and tending to. And it would be fucking amazing to see somebody that isn’t trapped here, even though Bucky might try to jump on his back when he leaves, however the hell he does it. Bucky doesn’t know what Peter is hearing, if he can get that Bucky spilled the beans, but it doesn’t look like Stark is yelling at him. 

Then Peter’s eyes go wide.

“ _Careful, Careful—_ ”

“Mr. Stark, what’s going on?” Peter asks, and his voice cracks.

“Steve?”

“ _We’re okay, we’re okay—the ground is split, we’re—we’re in Midtown but it doesn’t look like anything anymore. Like it was all burnt down—like there was something under the ground._ ”

“How far are you from where you’re supposed to be?” Peter asks, and he seems serious, his brows furrowed. 

“Yeah, Steve, how far are you?” Bucky asks. 

“ _We’re heading for the remains of Grand Central,_ ” Steve says. “ _Couple blocks off._ ”

Peter rubs his forehead and sways a bit, holding his middle. 

“Okay?” Bucky asks him, a hand on his shoulder. 

“Ugh,” Peter says. “He’s freaking me out.” He sighs, shaking his head. “No, no—keep telling me, I’m allowed to be freaked out but I wanna know.”

“ _There are, uh—bodies everywhere,_ ” Steve says. “ _But they’re burnt…_ ”

“That woman didn’t tell you what happened there?” Bucky asks, still looking at Peter. He doesn’t know if he wants him hearing this, knowing Tony is there. He’s freaking out himself, so he can imagine what the hell is going through Peter’s head.

“ _Not in detail,_ ” Steve says. 

“Why isn’t she there with you?”

“ _She’s on the outside,_ ” Steve says. “ _Tony—_ ”

“Focus? Yes, yes, I’m focusing!” Peter says, his hand falling from his face so Bucky can see his eyes darting around.

Then the crate below them shakes. Rattles, and they barely keep their fucking footing.

“Oh, no goddamn way,” Bucky says, and he quickly grabs Peter’s arm and hauls him like six crates over. 

“There could be somebody in there,” Peter says. 

“Last time that happened there was nobody, and I looked really good,” Bucky grunts.

“ _You guys okay?_ ” 

“Just focus on you—”

“We’re good, Mr. Stark, keep talking—”

And then Bucky hears it. Just like Peter said. 

A voice.

It’s coming from the crate that moved and Bucky narrows his eyes, approaching it. 

“You hear that?” Peter asks excitedly. “Oh my God, you hear it?”

“I hear it,” Bucky says. “Just—”

The four legs come out again and Peter rushes past him, ridiculously and annoyingly, and races over to the other side of the crate, kinda dangling over the edge of the pile.

“Peter, come on, why do you do this—”

Peter whips off the top of the crate with his hands and puts it aside, peering inside. “I don’t—I don’t see—”

“Didn’t you look in here already?” Bucky asks, groaning down to his knees. “I think we’re just—oh my God.” He freezes. He can barely breathe. No way. No way no way no way.

“What?”

“ _What? Bucky?_ ”

“What is it—I don’t—oh.”

“ _Bucky._ ”

Bucky has hallucinated before. He’s seen all kinds of shit, his whole life, before and after he was unmade. But this. Is not something he would have ever imagined he’d be seeing.

“Holy shit, holy shit, oh man.”

Bucky is gaping. “Sam,” he calls, his voice wavering a little bit.

It’s like they’re in a box on the ground, and he’s at foot level. About thirty feet away, he sees Sam fucking Wilson standing there, with some weird muscular dude not wearing a shirt, and what looks like a tiny living tree. 

Peter shoves in next to Bucky to get a better look, their faces close together, two of the spider legs coming down on Bucky’s right side. Peter gasps, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Wait—oh my God! I know that guy—he—he was with me! On Titan!”

Sam is frozen, and he turns slowly, ridiculously slow, and bends down, his mouth open and his eyes comically wide.

“No. Goddamn. Way.”

“There are faces in the middle of the floor. Bird man, do you see this?”

“I am Groot.”

“ _Bucky, talk to me, please._ ”

“Wait. Spider child. Is that you? You’re stuck in this afterlife too?”

“Yeah!” Peter yells. “Oh my God! I never got your name, but yes it’s me!”

“Barnes,” Sam says, dropping down onto his stomach. “Holy shit, man, is that actually you?”

Bucky laughs. Tears spring to his eyes and he closes them, dizzy under all this relief. “Sam. Jesus, I never thought I’d be this happy to see you.”

“ _Sam?? Did you find Sam?? My Sam??_ ”

“Yeah,” Bucky says. “Sam—it’s Sam. Of all people. Sam. And two others.”

“Yeah, Mr. Stark, we found—”

Bucky never thought the idiot Falcon would make him feel this way but he feels renewed, overwhelmed, and full of hope. He doesn’t picture Steve where he is, but he pictures Brooklyn. After. When he’s back, when the world is right again. When they’re together.

“Steve, get that shit, get those stones,” Bucky says. “We have Sam and two others. We’re gonna keep looking, gather everybody we find. We’re waiting for you.”


	10. Chapter 10

Steve has always felt New York in his soul. When he was younger, it felt like it was growing with him, forming around him, giving and taking away like any other person in his life. He could traverse the streets in his sleep, could paint the skyline without looking (he’d actually succeeded in that a couple times), and anytime he went anywhere else, he was always longing for his home.

When he woke up after the ice, it was like another world, but his heart still felt like it belonged there, and the fierce protectiveness remained, too. He’d missed it when he couldn’t come back, and he wondered if there was something that irrevocably tied him here, made this the place where he was supposed to be. 

But this place, this burnt out husk, does not feel like his home. When Carol told them about the alternate universe, he never pictured it quite like this.

The sky is dark and grey, an eternal storm, and it looks like a broken down warzone, a place where things happened, where nothing will ever happen again. Their breathing is loud because everything is so quiet, and most of the buildings look like they’ve been split down the middle, crumbling like ancient ruins. Everything is burnt. The bodies are burnt, the ground. Steve can barely breathe. 

He stays shoulder to shoulder with Tony as they traverse the landscape, and somehow, a ray of sunshine comes from within. Sam. Sam and two others. Bucky’s determination and newfound hope make Steve believe, too. He listens to Bucky trying to convince Sam and the others that he’s actually talking to Steve, and then he relays a question from Sam—what music did he recommend when they first met—and when Steve answers Marvin Gaye, Bucky laughs loud and outright, which makes Steve believe Sam has a very particular expression on his face. Steve has to confirm a few more things, but finally, Sam believes it. 

“We have Sam Wilson and two others,” Steve says, on the com to the team. “Bucky and Peter found them. We’ve got ‘em.”

“Can’t believe it,” Tony says, laughing, still smiling. “Yeah, kid, you build that posse—”

Steve turns off the communicator because he can barely hear Bucky and Tony at the same time, let alone all of them muttering their excitement and relief. He understands the sentiment, but it’s getting hard to keep everything in order.

“ _Okay, uh, you’re on coms, right? That’s what that is?_ ” Bucky asks. “ _I don’t wanna make this too complicated, I’m sorry, man—_ ”

“No, it’s okay,” Steve says. “Yeah, we’re on coms, we’ve got everybody—” He touches the indicator in his ear to start transmitting to the others again. 

“ _Is the raccoon there?_ ”

Steve steps over a big hunk of debris, watching as Tony fires his repulsors and flies to the other side.

“Is Rocket on coms?” Steve asks. He hears some rustling in his ear, everybody muttering.

“Should be there,” Tony says, looking over his shoulder as Steve catches up with him. “I think we had almost everybody—”

A voice Steve isn’t quite used to starts talking in his ear. “ _Yeah, yeah, Captain, uh—what is it, what can I do for you?_ ”

“Okay—one second—Bucky, I’ve got him.”

“ _I’ve got his friend Groot here—uh, and his—yeah—his buddy Drax, too. They want him to know they’re here. Drax is translating—Jesus, I remember seeing this Groot guy in Wakanda, but I thought I was hallucinating._ ”

Steve smiles, looking over at Tony. But Tony is clearly off com, saying something to Peter, cutting his hands through the air. “Rocket—the message is, your friends Groot and Drax are there in the soul dimension. They’re fine, they’re okay.”

Steve hears muttering, Rhodey’s voice, Natasha and Clint too, and then he hears Rocket clear his throat. 

“ _Thank you,_ ” he says, clearly full of emotion. “ _Uh—thank you for passing that along. Groot, incredible to hear, Drax—never heard of him before in my life._ ”

It sounds like sarcasm so Steve laughs, shaking his head. “Okay, guys, I’m gonna go on and off so we don’t get mixed up—lots of people we’re talking to here, gotta keep it in line.”

“ _Steve_ ,” Rhodey says. “ _Just—make sure, uh—make sure Sam knows we’re gonna get his ass back here, ASAP._ ”

“I will,” Steve says.

“ _And where’s Tony?_ ” Rhodey asks. “ _I don’t hear him._ ”

Steve looks at Tony’s back. There’s still ash in the air here, floating like death incarnate, and it makes Steve sick to see. He still hears Tony talking and he hears him say something about keeping safe, not exerting himself, and he knows he’s gotta fucking tell him about Peter. He can’t keep something like that from him. He’s kept something from Tony before and he regrets it, will always regret it, but this is just something he needs to know. Steve would want to know, too. He feels bad going against Peter’s wishes, but keeping Tony in the dark about someone he cares about just doesn’t feel right. 

“He’s fine, he’s off com talking to the kid. We’re still in route.”

“ _Keep me updated_ ,” Carol says. “ _Thor needs to catch up with you before you take the stones, you need the vessel._ ”

Steve knows already, and he has a feeling she doesn’t exactly trust them. “I will,” he says. He clicks off coms—apparently, they’ll come back on if either one of their heart rates go up too high. Something Tony called his ‘old man setting’, but gave to himself, too. Steve tries to stay calm.

“Tony,” Steve says.

“Yeah?” Tony says, sharp, turning to face him. 

“Stick close,” Steve says. He can’t let anything happen to him. Plain and simple. He won’t say it out loud because Tony will balk, for sure. But Pepper would never forgive him. And it would just add more stress to Peter’s plate, if anything happened.

Tony gives him a little look but doesn’t say anything.

Bucky’s voice cuts in again. “ _Yeah, kid, this guy is the biggest nerd you’ll ever meet—please, you are—_ ”

Steve smiles to himself.

“What are you guys doing?” Tony asks, looking straight ahead. “Is it a party in there? Don’t let Mr. Clean get you into any trouble. I know you’re hot shit now and you’ve got new friends but don’t forget to talk to me, kid.”

Steve blows out a sigh. He has to goddamn tell him.

Tony knocks him in the arm and Steve looks up abruptly. Tony taps his forehead and makes a face, turning up his nose. “Acting weird,” he whispers. Steve can hear Bucky talking—and he keeps getting cut off. Steve can’t imagine the conversations. 

“Buck,” Steve says, still looking at Tony. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t—I know you don’t want me to but I’m gonna—I need to let Tony know what you told me. Just be normal, keep talking to them.”

“What?” Tony asks, eyes wary.

“ _Ugh. Ugh._ ”

“I can’t keep this from you,” Steve says, swallowing hard. They’re still walking and Steve tries to keep an eye out for everything under their feet, because Tony’s gaze is trained on him, now. He’s in the suit so he wouldn’t be too hurt in a fall, but Steve knows that happening wouldn’t thrill him. 

“C’mon, Rogers, don’t beat around the bush,” Tony says, and he already sounds irritated. 

“ _No, he doesn’t need to,_ ” Bucky says, not talking to Steve. “ _He actually needs to sit—yeah, listen, we have gone through some shit, lemme tell you—_ ”

“Uh, when that alien thing was in there,” Steve says, watching Tony’s eyes. “When they fell, they knocked it loose and it—it attacked Peter.”

Tony’s whole face falls and he stops walking, turning to face Steve. “Excuse me?”

“I know you have an idea,” Steve says, still listening to Bucky talk to the others and Peter. He tries to focus. “But he—”

“Of course I had a fucking idea,” Tony hisses. His chest is heaving and he shakes his head, opening and closing his mouth. He knows the kid can hear him, and Steve can tell he’s unsure what to say and what not to say. Tony is breathing hard and seems like he’s trying to keep control. “How bad?”

Steve sighs. “Bucky said that he’s not dying—”

“Oh good, great—”

“—but he’s suffering. Three, uh, slashes across his middle. He didn’t want to tell you because he didn’t want you to worry, or get distracted, but—I didn’t think it was something that should be kept from you.”

Tony stares a little past him and shakes his head, his eyes getting glassy. He covers his face, groaning into his hands. He startles a bit, pressing his lips together and looking off to the side. “No, kid, we’re—we’re good, you good?” 

“ _No, I don’t—Sam, how did you deal with this alone? All of his translations are—_ ”

Tony blows out a breath and Steve can see him shaking. He tries not to second guess himself. He thinks there was no right way here, no one hundred percent perfect situation, but he wants transparency. He wants trust. They can’t mess this up again. 

“Yeah, looks like New York but a lot shittier. Not much to say about it. Okay, just—yeah, stick with the tree—yes—Sam is—okay, yeah, but Bucky primarily, don’t—yeah, don’t fuck around, Pete, there isn’t a convenience store around the corner—” He nods, sighing, and Steve walks closer, putting a hand on his shoulder. Tony looks at him out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah—stranger danger.”

“ _Kid looking nervous, did Stark tell him he knows?_ ” Bucky asks.

“Not yet,” Steve says. The silence here is unnerving.

“ _You doing okay? What’s it look like in there?_ ”

He knows he told Bucky he’d keep him updated on this world, but all he wants to do is get through it. He doesn’t want Bucky thinking of New York this way. “Bad,” he says. “But we’re okay. Getting through.”

“C’mon, we gotta—we gotta keep going,” Tony says, his voice breaking a little.

Steve follows along behind him, the two of them getting out of the street and onto the sidewalk, where it isn’t as broken up. Tony doesn’t have his helmet on so Steve can see the tension in his neck, can see how he’s clenching his jaw. He’s walking differently now, too. “Tony.”

“ _Stark heart rate elevated, what’s going on, Steve?_ ” Carol’s voice asks.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, just taking in all the splendor in this beautiful cityscape,” Tony says, through gritted teeth. 

“ _Nothing going on?_ ” Rhodey asks, and he sounds worried. 

“A-Okay, buddy,” Tony says. “Hey, is Scott on here? Resident ant, where are you? You listening?”

“ _Here, Stark, what’s up?_ ” Scott’s voice replies. Steve can hear some static, other voices speaking, which is weird, considering he can never hear who Bucky is talking to. The differences between the coms and the connection with Bucky. Bucky sounds ethereal, all over, everywhere. The coms are sharp and crackly, like an old radio. 

“Any developments on traveling to see our friends? You and Bruce figuring it out? I’ll literally give you any amount of money you want if you figure it out within the next couple hours.”

Steve stares over at him.

“ _Uh, uh—we are working on it—but we’ll—we’ll work on it harder._ ”

“Yeah, uh, don’t be sitting around if you can—let’s keep working—”

“ _Tony,_ ” Bruce’s voice says. “ _We’re both in the lab now, don’t worry._ ”

“Contact me as soon as you got it down,” Tony says. “Anyone heard from Thor?”

“ _Not yet,_ ” Carol says.

“Pass that info on too, if we get it,” Tony says, and he clicks his com off. Steve hears them shuffling, talking to each other, and he clicks his off too just as Bucky starts speaking.

“ _Peter is getting pissed at me, the tree is all pissed because his—video game is gone? Something? I don’t know—Drax makes absolutely no sense—Sam, please—Sam is the same as ever—things are difficult, help me._ ”

Steve tries not to laugh because it’s definitely not the time. He looks at the angry line of Tony’s back in the Iron Man suit and peers up—the buildings that still stand look like looming shadows, tilted and struck by what happened here. He knows Carol knows, but she’s keeping it from them for a reason. He doesn’t know how much to question her.

“Gimme—a couple,” Steve says, trying to catch up with Tony. The glass is blown out of all the windows alongside them and it crunches under their feet.

“You should be proud of me,” Tony says, pointing over in Steve’s direction.

“I am,” Steve says, without thinking. It creates a moment because Tony turns and gives him a look, and Steve clears his throat. “I mean. Why?”

The closest thing to a smile he’s gotten since they got here. It fades fast. “Because I’m two steps away from a panic attack but I’m keeping it at bay.” He makes a face and shakes his head. “No, kid—Peter, it’s okay.”

This method of communication is too fucking difficult, and they can’t make use of notepads right now. Steve can’t tell where Tony wants to go with this, and he has a bad feeling he’s about to start yelling at Peter.

“—no, okay—it’s shit, yeah—burnt out, garbage town—no, no, listen, I’m fine, that’s not what this is about—”

There aren’t any street signs here anymore but one, they have a tracker, and two, Steve still knows these streets, knows this place despite what happened to it.

“Where’s Peter?” Steve asks Bucky, trying to keep his voice low.

“ _I had him start looking through crates on the ground, me and the others are starting from the top but the tree—uh, Groot isn’t listening to me, Drax just broke a crate—Jesus Christ, no—_ ”

“Tony—” Steve starts, because Tony is still talking, his tone rising

“Listen, kid, I don’t wanna hear it—you’re the one that’s been holding out on me, yeah I know, yeah, Steve told me—yeah, of course Bucky told him, how do you think he knew? Can he hear you too? Think, Parker.”

“ _Ah, fuck, Steve, Peter’s yelling at me, what the fuck?_ ”

Steve sighs. There’s a grouping of dead bodies to his left and he tries not to look. This feels like a bizarro world. Everything about it, including what’s going on in his head. He tries to remind himself that this world is unsalvageable, but it’s hard to swallow. He doesn’t like knowing about things like this. Places he can’t help, places people tell him he can’t help. There has to be a way.

But that isn’t their priority.

Bucky.

Bucky.

“Buck, I’m sorry—Tony, come on, you know why the kid did it—”

Tony doesn’t even seem to hear him and Steve groans, looking out ahead of them. He sees the turn coming up and they really, really have to hear from Thor. They can’t get the goddamn stones without the vessel he’s bringing.

“—no, kid, you know I care about you, you know it’s better to be straight up about this shit, and it doesn’t help to hide it, because of course I’m gonna find out, and all you were doing before was keeping me wondering, which is just as bad as knowing—”

“Tony, give him a break.”

“ _Tony, your heart rate, what’s going on?_ ” Natasha’s voice breaks in.

“No, no, I have never regretted a feature more,” Tony says, dramatically clicking his com back off.

“He’s talking to Peter, just—you know—” Steve starts.

“ _Full dad mode, Jesus,_ ” Natasha says.

Steve sighs. “Yeah,” he says, and clicks his com back off too. There’s a crashed cab to his right, three cars piled up behind it. There’s too much death here. He wishes Thor would contact them.

“—I know I can’t—I know I can’t do anything,” Tony says, and there’s pain all over his face. “But I—what’s wrong?”

“ _Steve._ ”

Bucky’s tone turns Steve’s stomach. “What is it?” Steve asks.

Tony’s hand wraps around Steve’s wrist. 

“ _We’re all seeing—fuck, Steve, something’s happening here—Sam, can you go down there with the two goddamn teenagers—Steve, the ceiling—_ ”

“Okay, Pete, calm down, just describe it—”

“ _It’s not calm anymore, it’s like—it’s wavy, the blackness, it looks like a storm—it feels like it’s shaking the whole goddamn place._ ”

“ _Okay, Steve, your heart rate now,_ ” Natasha’s voice says. “ _What’s going on? Are you two close? I think you should stay on coms—_ ”

Steve quickly turns it off and so does Tony, and they both break into a sprint without discussing it first. 

“What do you think it means?” Tony asks, looking over in Steve’s direction. He hears a kind of fear in his voice that he hasn’t really heard before, all the anger of a moment ago gone. Steve doesn’t know what it means, other than panic, other than Bucky in danger, Bucky too far from him, like always. It means they have to get to the stones, now. It means the plan has to take less fucking time than it’s supposed to take. It means Thor has to get here, as soon as possible. It means they have to toe the line and execute the plan perfectly, or they’ll fall into another failure. 

They can’t lose them. Not after all this. Steve can’t imagine the silence, after the honeyed texture of Bucky’s voice has made it’s home in his head. He’s been terrified of losing it since he heard his first words, but now there’s more danger, something else they don’t understand, and Steve doesn’t think he’s going fast enough. 

“I don’t know,” he says. “Nothing good.”

“You’re okay, kid,” Tony says, both of them breathing hard as they run. 

They’re close now, and Steve doesn’t allow himself to look at anything anymore. This place is lost, and he has to accept that. Priorities. He can’t lose focus, he can’t lose hope. He can’t be swayed from this fucking plan. He’s gotta get Bucky back. They need to fix it, they need to fix it. Or their world might as well be this one.

“Peter, it’s fine,” Tony huffs. “Please—just tell me shit, okay? Like this—amazing job, instant action, great description, you’re doing great, kid.”

“Buck, you guys alright?” Steve asks.

Before he can get an answer, a fiery circle opens up in front of them, and Thor steps out of it, right into the street. It closes just as quickly as it opened, and Steve stops panicking just enough to notice what he’s holding.

“Fancy meeting _you_ here,” Tony says, stumbling back, hand out towards Steve.

“Apologies for the delay,” Thor says, and he looks a little tinged in places as he wipes off his shoulder. “Starting the forge is a much bigger process than it once was, but I got what it is you need.”

“Is that a—is that a sword?” Tony asks.

“Indeed it is,” Thor says. He’s holding his axe in one hand and the sword in the other, and he holds it up reverently. “Doubled bladed, tungsten alloyed with steel, mystic metal, one slot for each stone—I’ve been informed you two will be up to the task of wielding this weapon, I was concerned but the new Captain informed me it would be a task you could accomplish together.”

“The new Captain?” Steve asks.

“Miss Danvers,” Thor says, and Tony snickers. 

“Captain, Captain, we’re gonna have to figure something out there,” Tony says. 

“Yes,” Thor says. “It could be confusing.”

“How do we use it like Thanos used his?” Steve asks, his eyes tracing over the sleek efficiency of the sword. The metal and steel shine in the small amount of light still left here, and Steve sees the slots on each blade—three on each side, facing opposite directions. The handle is divided into two segments, threaded together with wire and wood.

“It’s simple,” Thor says, holding the sword out slightly. “You both hold a segment of the handle, and when the time comes, you turn the sword until the stones are all facing in the same direction. That should do the trick, but you can stab the ground together if you so choose. Might make for a more triumphant moment.”

“Great,” Tony says. “I love stabbing things. Okay, buddy, hold onto that for a spell because I don’t want us to mess with it before we get the stones. Their world is going a little wonky so we gotta pick up the pace.”

“ _So Thor made it?_ ” Bucky asks.

“Yeah, thank God,” Steve says, as the three of them continue on.

“What’s wrong with their world?” Thor asks.

“Ceiling, if you can call it that, seems to be getting a little stormy,” Tony says. “Yeah, Pete, we got him, we’re going—”

“ _It’s still a mess in here but we’re trying to keep searching. There’s still a good amount of rumbling but we can stand._ ”

Tony scoffs. “Just keep yourself safe, Peter. Pretend you’re on a sick day. Pretend May is gonna be like, really pissed if you even get out of bed.” He makes a face. “I know—I know you don’t have an actual bed—”

Steve looks at Thor. “They found Sam Wilson, one of mine, and Groot and Drax, two of the Guardians.”

“Oh, wonderful,” Thor says, smiling. “Rocky will be very happy.”

“Yeah, we let him know,” Steve says. 

Thor looks down at his feet as they walk, and he peers at the quiet chaos all around them. There’s a lot in his expression and once again Steve is feeling that need to just sit down and talk, if they ever get a goddamn opportunity. They’re all gonna be each other’s personal therapists if things work out. And they have to work out.

“Uh,” Thor starts, clearing his throat. “So those are—everyone they’ve found?”

“So far,” Steve says, looking at him. “They’re still looking for others. I know they’re in there, Thor.”

A look passes over Thor’s face like he isn’t so sure who he’s asking about is in there, but he nods and doesn’t say anything else.

“Alright, eyes up, we’re coming up on it,” Tony says. Steve had been so distracted he didn’t even notice. “Kid, if you hear anything—”

“Bucky, we’re going in—”

“ _Be careful, Steve._ ”

“I will.”

“—don’t worry, okay? What does worrying do? We’ve talked about—I’m invincible, Parker, c’mon—just—talk to your tree friend.”

“They’re both teenagers,” Thor says, looking over at him. “They should have a lot in common.”

“If only they spoke each other’s language,” Tony says, with a sigh. “Well, Peter is always talking a bunch of nonsense anyway—nonsense I love, Pete, but nonsense all the same. Okay, game faces, let’s go.”

The entrance is blocked off by a bunch of crashed cars but they quickly dispatch them, and Steve tries to focus on Bucky’s voice. He’s glad he’s with Sam, and he likes the way they sound talking to each other, the banter in such a tense situation. It reminds him of when they were stuffed up in that VW bug for hours on end. Tony takes point and Steve isn’t exactly sure he wants that, so he catches up with him, and as soon as Thor sees Steve moving he moves faster, too, so they’re all walking in tandem with each other. 

There’s glass everywhere, more bodies, and as horrifying as it is they’re starting to feel more commonplace. 

“We’re close,” Steve says. “They must be in the main atrium.”

“I feel the energy,” Thor says.

“Yeah, this place is pulsing with it,” Tony says. “Step lightly.”

They walk through a corridor, avoiding blown out pieces in the tile floor, and Steve leaves a trail of footprints, blood and dirt. He remembers coming here with Bucky way back, for a photography project. They’d stood under the man made constellations, the hustle and bustle moving all around them. Steve had managed to take more photos of Bucky staring upwards, that easy smile on his face, than the ceiling he was supposed to be focusing on. 

There’s no movement here anymore. But he sees the stones. They’re just on the ground, scattered but close together, and it almost seems like a trap. There are upwards of six burnt out bodies surrounding them, but they don’t look as decimated as all the other bodies they’ve been coming across.

Before Steve knows it, Tony is out in front of him, approaching the carnage.

“Tony, be careful,” he says.

But Tony is approaching the body closest to the stones, splayed out in its final moments before death, and when he bends closer to look a convulsion runs through him, and he staggers back. 

“ _We’ve overridden your ability to turn off coms,_ ” Rhodey’s voice says. “ _Every five minutes your heart rates are spiking and we need to know if you need help. So stop being stubborn._ ”

But Steve barely hears, walking over to Tony’s side, briefly seeing Thor in his periphery approaching the other bodies. Tony reaches out and grabs Steve’s shoulder and there’s pure horror in his eyes. He wrenches his gaze from the body and backs away from it, Steve close behind him.

“Don’t say anything,” Tony whispers. 

“ _Steve,_ ” Bucky’s voice says. “ _You okay? Peter’s eyes look like they’re about to pop out of their sockets._ ”

Steve looks down at the body. He would recognize Bruce Banner anywhere, dead or alive, even broken and moldering, decaying. Steve feels sick, can’t catch his breath. Bruce’s jaw is detached, he only has one eye, and his face is caving in. Tony shudders again and turns away completely.

“ _Need a response or the strike team is going in, Tones. Steve, either one of you read me?_ ” Rhodey sounds desperate.

“We’re okay,” Steve says. “No team. We’ve got this.”

“’s okay, Pete,” Tony says, quiet. “Don’t worry, we’re at…the finish line.”

Steve pulls Tony away, closer to the stones. He doesn’t know what happened here, but it creeps under his skin and makes him feel like he’s dead, too, like he’s six feet under, heavy dirt stifling him. He shakes his head, looking up at Thor, but he doesn’t find good news there, either. 

“Us, these are—these are us,” he says. “The three of us, Natasha—there’s a boy here—”

“I don’t wanna see it,” Tony yells. “Thor, come over here, c’mon, let’s get this done.”

“Tony, it’s alright,” Steve says, a chill running through him. The space feels too big, glass clinging to the edges of the open windows, the stairs crumbling, the complete absence of sound other than their own breathing ominous and terrifying. He can’t say he’s been terrified too many times in his life, but knowing his own dead body is just ten feet away doesn’t do wonders for his state of mind.

“ _Sam, did he actually find something? Steve, talk to me._ ”

“I’m okay, Buck,” Steve says, softly. 

“ _Better be._ ”

Thor approaches them and Steve is still hanging onto Tony’s arm, a little loath to let go of him. He can tell he’s close to panicking and they don’t need that, not right now.

“Pete, guess what? We’re gonna be samurais, are you jealous?” Tony says, his voice wavering. “Yeah. I’ll get you one too, when you’re back.” He nods at Thor as he stands in front of them, holding out the sword. 

“Each of you take hold of the handle,” Thor says. “Then we’ll gather the stones.”

Steve looks at Tony and nods at him—they both reach out, Steve with his right hand and Tony with his left, wrapping their fingers around the sword. A small moment passes where nothing happens, and then a ripple of energy surges through the place, nearly knocking them off their feet. Thor stumbles aside, looking at them in question. 

“Uh, Cap?” Tony laughs. “We doing something we shouldn’t—”

“ _What’s going on, Steve?_ ” Bucky asks.

Then the stones whip up into the air, fly towards them, and wedge themselves into the sword like they were always meant to be there. Something rips through Steve and he cries out, hears Tony doing the same, and he feels like he blacks out for a second, but concentrates with everything he has on holding onto the sword. He hears Thor yelling, Bucky speaking, the others talking too, but then the firestorm stops, aftershocks shooting through his body.

There’s a new kind of silence in his head. He exchanges a look with Tony. 

“Peter?” Tony yells, his face going white. “Peter?”

“Bucky?” Steve asks. Nothing. No response. “Buck, can you hear me?”

“Peter, Pete—answer me. Kid, where are you?”

“Buck?” Steve asks again, his voice breaking. No, no, no. This can’t be happening, it can’t.

“Thor, what did it do?” Tony demands. “I can’t hear the kid, what—what happened, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Thor says, sadness in his eye. “I didn’t think they would—the stones, I didn’t—what they did—”

“Fuck, no, no—Peter? Peter?”

“ _Captain Rogers,_ ” Shuri’s voice says, through the coms. It startles him, but his hopes are dashed. It isn’t the same. It isn’t Bucky’s voice. “ _Captain, I’m sorry, I’m measuring and—the energy is gone. You are—you are no longer connected._ ”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reactions to the last chapter were so great. Thank you so much! I've opened a tumblr if anybody wants to send me potential story ideas or yell about this story or IW or A4 speculation/spoilers...I'm up for anything! iron--spider.tumblr.com :)

Peter is terrified. 

“Mr. Stark? Mr. Stark—Tony, can you hear me? You hear me, you okay? Tony, please! Are you—Bucky, can you hear Steve?” Peter looks up to where Bucky is but he isn’t moving, he’s just staring straight ahead. “Sam?” Peter asks, his voice small and weak.

“Not sure, kid, he’s not saying anything.”

Peter’s heart is raging. He’s shaking, he can’t breathe. He looks at Groot, whose liquidy eyes hone in on him in sympathy. There was so much screaming. And then nothing. Silence. 

“I am Groot?”

Peter shakes his head. He points at his temple. “I can’t hear Mr. Stark anymore,” he says, tears springing to his eyes. The cat is rubbing against Peter’s legs, meowing at him, but he can’t even bring himself to reach down and pet him. “I can’t—he can’t—” Peter feels dizzy and he tries to blink away the thoughts in his head. Tony and Steve are dead. Something got them. They couldn’t wield the stones. They’re stuck in the other universe. They’re dead. They’re dead, they’re dead, they’re dead.

Peter gasps, covering his mouth. A jolt of terror runs through his chest and he squeezes his eyes shut, clutching at his middle. Fuck, it hurts. It seems worse, now that fear is overwhelming him. He sucks in a breath. 

“I am Groot?”

Peter blinks at him, annoyed at himself for not understanding. He nods, hoping it’s the right gesture, and he closes his eyes. “In through your nose, out through your mouth,” Peter chants. He feels Groot put his hand on his shoulder, if he can call it a hand, and Peter nods again. He taps on his head—maybe something came loose.

He didn’t focus well enough. He was concentrating too hard on defending his decision to hide his injury and he didn’t focus enough. Tony told him to focus and he didn’t. He had one thing to do and he failed at it. He couldn’t maintain the connection, he messed it up, he messed it up for both of them. Now Tony is gone. 

“Mr. Stark,” he whispers. “Please—can you hear me?”

Nothing. He could be dead. They both could be dead, Thor could be dead too. Everything could be over, they could be stuck here. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know.

“Hey, Barnes, c’mon,” Sam’s voice says, from up high. “C’mon, look at me.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Drax asks. “Is he malfunctioning? Did he break? Can humans break?”

“Dude.”

Peter wipes at his eyes. His chest is tight and his throat hurts and his eyes are burning. He was scared out of his mind when he woke up alone here, worried about everyone, missing May, worried about where the hell she was. But then he had Tony in his head. Tony saying _you’re okay, kid, you’re good, calm down._ He felt safe, he felt like he had something to hold onto, something to look forward to. Tony Stark has been his idol for as long as he can remember, and the past few years have literally been stolen straight from the outrageous dreams he used to have as a kid. And having Tony here, in this hell world, felt like a gift, something he needed to keep, something that would keep him and get him through. Tony could do anything. Tony could find him. Tony could save him. But now Tony is gone. Now there’s silence. Now there’s a bleak landscape and the terrified clench around his heart that just gets tighter the longer he sits here, hoping and praying Tony will pipe in any second with some quip. _Stop crying, kid, you’re Spiderman, c’mon, spiders don’t cry, I don’t even think they have tear ducts._ Any second now. Any second now.

He can’t be dead. He can’t be dead he can’t be dead he can’t be dead. It isn’t allowed. Peter can’t lose someone else. Not him. Not Tony.

Even Groot looks sad.

But Bucky. Bucky. The face in the darkness, the first person that was corporeal, an indicator that they weren’t dead. Bucky, who’s been watching out for him this whole goddamn time, keeping him safe when he never asked for such a thing. Bucky, who Peter knows has been through hell and back. 

Bucky needs help.

Peter feels dizzy and iffy. His stomach hurts inside and outside too, his suit sticking to the edges of his wound, tattered. Losing Tony like this, with so much uncertainty, is making him feel weaker, like the wounds are worse than they are. But he’s gotta get to Bucky. He’s lost something too.

“Hey,” Peter says, getting to his feet gingerly, nodding at Groot before he looks up. “Bucky.”

“He’s not talking to me,” Sam says. 

“Bucky, I’m coming,” Peter says. The legs pop out again and he starts climbing up the crates, hearing another questioning statement from Groot as he leaves him on the ground.

“Kid, be careful,” Sam says. 

“We both lost them,” Peter says, loud enough so Sam can hear him as he continues to approach. “I can’t hear Tony either.”

Drax is staring down at him, a look of concern on his face. 

“They just stopped answering?” Sam asks. 

Peter doesn’t wanna recount all of it. He sucks in a wavering breath. “Yeah.”

“Don’t fear the worst,” Drax says, looking at him. “Silence doesn’t necessarily mean death. Well, it could mean death, but it could also mean magic, or injury, or maybe just a bad connection. Sometimes this happens. Maybe they just don’t want to talk.”

Peter doesn’t know what to say to any of that, so he just nods as he finally reaches Bucky, letting the legs retract in again. He squares up in front of Bucky, who seems lost in his own thoughts. “Sergeant Barnes. Hey. Hey, Bucky.” Bucky’s eyes find him. 

“Are these two close?” Drax asks Sam.

“They were here together for a while before we got here—”

“Are we close?” Drax asks.

Sam doesn’t say anything.

“He was screaming,” Bucky says, quiet.

The ceiling rumbles loudly and Peter jumps—the blackness is getting more unwieldy, and Peter wouldn’t be surprised if it washed down here and drowned them all. He doesn’t say that, though, because Bucky doesn’t even react to the noise.

“Hey,” Sam says. “You two head down to the ground, we’ll get Groot to help us and we’ll keep—we’ll keep looking, while the both of you get back on your feet.”

Peter grabs onto Bucky’s shoulder and nods at Sam. “Just—my Aunt is in here. Her name is May, she’s shorter than me, brown hair, she’s definitely gonna be asking anybody that looks like a superhero where I am, and I think she knows you already—”

“Number one priority,” Sam says, and Peter believes the honesty in his eyes. “She’ll probably come out swinging, so be ready to defend my honor, let her know I’m helping instead of hurting.”

That’s definitely the kind of optimism Peter needs right now and he laughs slightly, breathless. “I got you,” he says. He turns back to Bucky and takes hold of his metal arm, watching as the fingers curl around his own. “C’mon, let’s get down, I know you don’t want me up here.”

They maneuver over the crates and Peter doesn’t like the silence, watches as Groot unhappily joins Sam and Drax, sending anxious looks over at Peter and Bucky. Peter wishes he could talk to him for real. He needs to learn the language. Elvis the cat is also watching them, unblinking eyes, and Peter sighs once they get down to the ground again, sitting down on the lowest crate and pulling Bucky down with him. Bucky still seems like a zombie, and Peter focuses himself. Better than he was doing before. He’s panicking but he swallows it, keeping the tears back, and watches as Elvis sits down by their feet, sniffing at the toe of Bucky’s boot.

“Listen,” Peter says, and God, it’s too quiet. It’s too quiet. This isn’t fair, this isn’t what they deserve, the one goddamn thing that was keeping them going and it was yanked away. He tries to push the thoughts down. He has to focus, he has to do better, he has to. “Listen,” he says again, and he’s talking to himself, too. “They’re fine, I know it, something must have just—something probably just happened with the stones that severed the connection. Some magic thing.” He sighs. “I mean, it was magic to begin with, so…it’s really possible. That’s probably what happened. Definitely.”

“He was screaming,” Bucky says, still not looking at him. “Wasn’t Tony screaming too?”

Peter can still hear the echo of it, can still feel the shivers going down his arms, the utter helplessness he felt, and then nothing. Silence. 

“Yes,” Peter says, slowly, swallowing hard over the word. “But—Listen, uh—maybe—I mean, I was sorta far away when Thanos took the time stone—” Right after Tony got stabbed. Peter had dropped the other three when he saw it, when his only previous intention had been to keep them from hitting the ground. He doesn’t want to think about that, what it felt like to see it. It makes him sick and it makes his mind wander—to what’s happening now. To what’s not happening. 

He can’t think of Tony dead. It isn’t allowed. He looks up at Sam, Drax and Groot. Still no May. 

He clears his throat and continues his thought. “—yeah, I was, I was far away, but when it happened it seemed like it—ripped through him, like a surge of energy, and that…that was just one stone. He’s like, this big gross alien, and one stone did that—imagine all six, with Cap and Mr. Stark—I mean, I’m sure they’re like—I know that they made it, but it probably just…it probably just hurt a lot.” He sighs, looking down at his feet.

“You remember what it was like when we first woke up here?” Bucky asks, finally looking at him.

“Yeah,” Peter says. He wasn’t sure if he was dead, then. If he hadn’t heard Tony’s voice, he would have decided he was. 

“We’re back there now,” Bucky says. He has his hands clenched in his lap, and he looks smaller than he has this entire time. “Except now—except now, something happened and we can’t—we can’t fucking do anything about it.”

Peter’s heart hurts and he looks down, too, chewing on his lower lip. “When I was young—well, when I was little—I think I was like, nine or ten, I’d play Howling Commandos with the other kids on the block.” He doesn’t know why he’s telling this story, but he keeps on, anyway. “I always wanted to be you, I’d like, insist on it, and this kid Andrew, he’d always be Cap and the others would always fight him, like, no, no—and he asked me why I didn’t and I just…” He looks down at his feet. “I just thought you were the coolest.”

Bucky laughs a little. “I wasn’t,” he says. “I’m not. You woulda been better off being Steve. Or Dugan.”

“I always did well as you,” Peter says, shrugging. “Kinda made me feel lucky.”

“That’s ironic,” Bucky says. 

“I’m just saying…in a weird, roundabout way that, uh….I’ve always felt like you were on my side, and now—even without them, we have—I mean, you have me.”

Bucky looks at him and there’s a fondness in his eyes, which Peter is grateful for. “Thanks, kid,” Bucky says. “I’m glad—I’m glad you’re here, you’re a good person, I can see why Stark is so overbearing with you. And I hate the fact that you’re fucking stuck in here, of all people. You need to—finish up school, get into some amazing college—”

“Yeah, I don’t know about all that,” Peter says. 

“You don’t wanna go to college?” Bucky asks. 

Peter has no idea. He’s applied to a couple, and MIT already accepted him with Tony’s sway, but he just doesn’t know what he wants to do. Leaving Spiderman behind feels wrong. He can’t come swinging back every time something happens, because he’d never fucking make it. And he doesn’t want to leave May. He doesn’t like the idea of her being alone.

“I gotta get outta here first before I even think about anything like that,” Peter says, saving his stupid thought process for another time. 

“Yeah,” Bucky says. “We’ve gotta get you outta here.”

Peter narrows his eyes. “And you. We gotta get—all of us outta here.”

Bucky nods but doesn’t say anything. 

Peter shakes his head, his heart pounding. “I mean, I got this connection with Tony because he’s like—he mentored Spiderman, he mentored me, he became like—this dad figure to me and it’s been—amazing, to have someone like that in my life. Someone that cool, that all my friends love, that May—tolerates.”

Bucky laughs, looking at him. Peter doesn’t say that he feels like Tony is one of his best friends too, that he’s never looked up to somebody like he does Tony, that he looks forward to their long nights in the lab, to the weird restaurants that Tony takes him to, to the way Tony and May debate every single thing under the sun. The movie nights, the training sessions, the rare occasions when Tony will help him bust some small time criminal trying to steal an old lady’s purse. He loves Tony’s stories about college, about Rhodey when he first met him, about every little thing that led him to this point in his life. Tony is one of the most selfless people Peter has ever met, and he wants to be as much like him as he can. He’s made his life better. He makes Ned laugh, he verbally spars with MJ when everybody else is too afraid to, and he makes Peter feel important. He knows why they got this connection, why they found each other even though Peter was beyond death, beyond the world and everything else. Because Tony is one of the most valued figures in Peter’s life, and he knows he must have been plotting on how to tear it all apart to get him back.

Peter sighs, rubbing at his eyes.

“But I know you and Captain Rogers—I mean, that’s a forever kinda deal, that’s like, all time bff.” Peter knows about their friendship, how they stood by each other no matter what. And the whole fight with Tony, that was about Bucky, too. There’s definitely something massive there.

Bucky looks sad then, and he stares off into the low-light in the distance, another rumble coming from the ceiling. Neither one of them jump. It isn’t loud enough for that. “Yeah, kid, I guess there’s no point in beating around the bush anymore, considering, but, uh—he’s more like the love of my life than my best friend.”

Peter just stares at him. It’s pretty much the last thing he was expecting to come out of his mouth, and he tries not to gape at him too blatantly. “Oh,” he says. “Oh, oh.”

Bucky just nods, looking down at the cat, and Peter really hates the hopelessness in his eyes. 

“Does—does Captain Rogers know—know about this—uh, share your feelings—”

Bucky scrunches up his nose and looks like he’s focusing hard on something. “I don’t—you know, I doubt it. I saw the way he used to look at Peg, never really caught that look on his face with anybody else. This is something I’ve pretty much just kept to myself, I’ve never—I’ve never said it out loud.” He scoffs a little, meeting Peter’s eyes again. “So lucky you, kid. Information you never signed up for.”

Peter feels like an absolute idiot and all of his sentences are getting garbled in the back of his throat before he can even think them through. “So this is why we need to get you out, too,” he says, his voice breaking on the last word. “Because he needs to know.”

Bucky looks confused and shakes his head a little bit. 

“I mean, he probably knows already,” Peter says, his heart rattling. “It doesn’t matter if he was in love with a woman, I mean, that doesn’t mean he can’t be, uh, in love with you too. You probably didn’t notice, like—sometimes you can’t see what’s right in front of you. He’s probably being quiet about it too, because like—you guys met when this stuff was like, shunned by a shitty society, but actually it’s kinda like—kinda good, you both made it to now, because it’s fine now! It’s totally fine. I mean, it was always _fine_ , but like, stupid people—”

Bucky laughs, smiling, and claps him on the shoulder. “Okay. Don’t hurt yourself.”

Peter sighs, reaching up and rubbing at his eyes. “What I’m trying to say is—you’re like, his touchstone, his partner—don’t doubt it. And don’t—whatever you do, do not give up. We’re gonna get the hell out of here. All of us.”

“All trillion of us?” Bucky asks.

“Yup,” Peter says, swallowing hard. “And when we make it back, Steve and Tony are gonna be there waiting for us.”

Bucky looks at him for a couple long moments. “You really—do you really think they’re okay? It didn’t sound—”

“It didn’t sound good,” Peter says. He tries not to think about it. “But they’ve gotten through worse. And knowing them—they’re not gonna stop until we’re out of here.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says. 

Peter has a lot of hope, can’t stop hoping, can’t live in a world where Tony is dead, died like this—so he chooses not to entertain those notions. May would always say, focus on what you want your endgame to be, no matter what’s happening. God, he wants to find her. He wants Sam to haul her out of one of these crates right the hell now. 

“Don’t, uh, don’t say anything to Sam about this,” Bucky says.

“I won’t, don’t worry,” Peter says.

“Or Tony,” Bucky says. “Like, ever.”

Peter laughs. Bucky mentioning Tony, like he might still be alive, is a really, really good thing. “I wouldn’t,” Peter says. 

Bucky sighs, looking down at him, at the slashes in particular. “How are you doing?” he asks.

“Oh, they hurt,” Peter says, before he even really thinks about it. “I mean, it’s fine.” He sucks in a breath.

“Yeah, no, you said that first one out loud,” Bucky says, and he looks concerned. 

“Ah, it’s fine,” Peter says, looking down. The wounds look kinda gross, oozing a little bit, and he wonders why they aren’t healing as fast as they normally would. Probably a combination of this weirdo place and the alien that did it. He wonders how fast it’ll take care of itself once he’s out of here. Because he’s definitely gonna get out of here. “C’mon,” he says, getting up, petting Elvis on the head. “Let’s keep helping them look. We gotta find everybody before Tony and Steve are ready to get us.”

“Barnes,” Drax’s voice yells. “The bird man says that you have less than half the mental capacity that he does.”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky calls, over his shoulder. “Ask the bird man how many women he’s talked to in the past year that haven’t made him cry.”

“Why do you two hate each other?” Peter asks, watching Bucky stand up.

“Not hate,” Bucky says. “He’s just a gigantic loser.”

~

Peter tries to take it easy as he looks and he tries not to let his frustration grow as they continue not to find anybody else. The ceiling rumbles, rolls in thick, liquid blackness. Peter tries not to think about what it means. Sam continues to distract Bucky with his banter, which Peter is grateful for, but he falls a little bit into the silence of his own head. He keeps expecting Tony to pipe in, say that he’s back, but Peter absolutely refuses to believe that he’s dead. He feels like he would know, inherently. Like something in the air would change if he was gone.

They look for about two hours before they hear the crash.

“What the hell was that?” Sam asks.

“I am Groot.”

“No, it was farther away than that,” Drax says. 

“Peter Parker!” an unfamiliar male voice yells. “Hey! Hey! Christ, I feel like I’ve been running for years! Where are you? Should be close—uh, it’s me, it’s uh—it’s Scott Lang, I was the big guy you took down at the airport like an AT-AT! I’m not big right now, or small! I’m regular sized! Oh! Tony sent me! I’m—I’m from the outside, I didn’t die but I found you! Or I hope I found you! Where are you?”

Peter almost has a heart attack. The spider legs come out and he starts rushing down the crates, knocking one over.

“Kid, shit—”

Peter stumbles down and nearly falls but the legs don’t let him and he keeps his balance, managing to get to the ground. Lang rushes around the corner and sees him, his face lighting up. 

“There you are! Shit, I thought I’d never find you.”

“Oh my God,” Peter breathes. He can’t believe it. “I know I heard Mr. Stark talking about this but I didn’t—I really had no idea what he was talking about.”

“Tony,” Lang says, touching something on his ear. “Tony, I have him.”

“He’s okay?” Peter exclaims, his eyes straining and his heart slamming against his chest. “He’s okay, you’re talking to him—he’s—he didn’t die?”

“He’s okay, they’re—”

“What about Steve?” Bucky asks, close behind Peter, quickly stepping out in front of him. 

“I have Barnes too, Rogers,” Lang says. “Yeah, they’re good, they’re both back in Wakanda absolutely freaking out—I didn’t know if I was gonna actually make it here so I didn’t really—tell them I was leaving—yeah, yeah, I know.” He looks around, then back at Peter. “Hey, I’ve got two people in here too, you find anybody else yet?”

“Not yet,” Peter says, his mouth dry. He really wants to talk to Tony.

Lang sighs. “Well this place is gigantic,” he says. “They’ve gotta be somewhere.” He grimaces, looking up. “Okay, okay,” he mutters. “He’s insisting on me doctoring you, like—now, so—”

“Perfect,” Bucky says, ushering Peter forward. “Then can we speak to them?”

“Yes,” Lang says, taking off a backpack and dropping it on the ground. “Actually, you can right now—I’ve got communicators. I stole them. It’s fine—yeah, thought you’d be fine with that. I know I am. They’re only gonna work while I’m in here, though. This place is really closed off.” He makes a face. “No, I’m not staying—I’m gonna go kick that dude’s ass with everybody else.”

Even though Peter knows he’s about to get a communicator, he feels a pang of jealousy at Lang being able to talk to Tony how he was just hours ago. He holds out his hand and Bucky does too, and Lang scoffs up at them. 

“Hold your horses, Jesus,” Lang says, digging through his bag. 

“How the shit did you get in here?” Sam asks, down on the ground. 

“Quantum Realm, you wouldn’t understand,” Lang says. 

“I am Groot.”

Lang smiles up at him, his eyes shining. “Wow, an alien! This guy is cool!”

“He came in from the outside?” Drax asks. “Human, did you find a door?”

“No, it’s uh, it’s complicated.”

“Can we have the communicators?” Peter asks.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lang says, and he pulls a couple ear pieces out of his bag and gives them out. “They’re already on the right channel, you should—”

Peter grabs the ear piece and shoves it into his ear. “Mr. Stark?” he asks.

“ _Kid, what did I say about hanging up on me?_ ”

Peter laughs, nearly cries, wilting back a bit.

“ _FRIDAY, take this conversation to channel two._ ”

Peter hears a small click and he can see Bucky talking to Steve, but it doesn’t come through in his ears. “Mr. Stark, that was—really—really scary,” he says. “I thought you—I thought—”

“ _Me too, kid, I thought you were too. Steve and I just about lost our shit and had a whole existential crisis, it wasn’t pretty. Uh, apparently, when we took the soul stone, it took you guys away from us. Didn’t have to kill anybody, which is good, apparently that’s the usual deal, but it took our connection away, which fucking sucks. Because this isn’t gonna hold out._ ”

“Yeah,” Peter says, letting out a wavering breath. “Man, I’m so glad you’re not dead.”

“ _Right back at you. You are literally not allowed to die or ever disappear again, got me?_ ”

“I got you,” Peter says. “What’s—what’s going on over there?” he asks. 

“Spider kid, get down here,” Lang says. 

“ _Number one priority, let Scott take care of you,_ ” Tony says. “ _He needs to clean up those wounds and give you some medicine._ ”

“I’m sure they’ll take care of themselves as soon as I’m out of here,” Peter says, sitting down in front of Lang.

“ _Yeah, well, I’d prefer if they took care of themselves yesterday, so._ ”

“Okay, okay, I’m letting him,” Peter says. “Just—tell me what’s going on, update me, what’s happening, you still have your sword right? What’s it look like, is it super cool? Are you really gonna get me one?”

“What channel are you two on?” Lang asks.

“Two,” Peter says, looking at him. “Why?”

“ _Well—_ ”

Lang switches over, and Peter hears him in front of him and in his ear. “Tony, this thing tore right through the kid’s iron suit, it must have really been something else.”

Peter glares at him. “It was ugly and gross and it’s dead now. For real dead. Bucky killed it.”

“ _Just patch him up, give him the antibiotics, Bruce gave you the ones he thought were right, correct? This is why I didn’t want you just blipping out of here._ ”

“Are you glad I’m here?” Lang asks, looking up like Tony is hovering around somewhere.

“ _Yes._ ”

“Okay then.”

“ _Okay, off the phone, I’m on a very important call._ ”

Peter smiles to himself as Scott huffs, clicking off. He starts peeling away the nasty parts of the suit best as he can, cleaning the wounds with antibacterial. Peter hisses a little bit, leaning back against a crate.

“ _Hey Pete, you still there?_ ”

“Yeah,” Peter says, looking away from what Scott is doing. He sees Bucky off a little in the distance, talking, Sam, Drax and Groot doing the same. It feels really surreal. Sam marches off and starts climbing up the crates again, still in the midst of his conversation. He’s so happy. He can’t believe he’s talking to Tony right now. The worry and fear had nearly made him fucking puke.

“ _Okay, so we’re suiting up, uh—your other questions—you’d go crazy over this sword, it’s two sided doubled bladed, got three stones on each side, uh—I’m holding the side with mind, power and space, Steve has soul, time and reality. Don’t know if that has any significance, but whatever. Thor made it for us with a star or some shit, so I feel like you’d love it based on that alone._ ”

“When I get back, can I—”

“ _You will never, ever touch it, ever, not even if you’re wearing seventeen iron man suits like those stacking dolls._ ”

Peter snorts. He’d figured as much. He feels Lang applying some ointment or something, and it feels so weird to actually be receiving help for these cuts. He kinda never pictured it happening.

“ _But yeah, I’ll get you a sword. You need a hundred swords? Totally fine. We’ll have an entire room in the compound for your swords._ ”

“Sword room,” Peter says, feeling a little tired.

“ _Exactly. I need to start color coding my weapons, anyway._ ”

“Sounds fun.”

“ _Yeah, you okay?_ ”

Lang makes him lean forward a little bit so he can wrap him up, trying not to make the bandages too tight. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” Peter says. “So when’s it all happening?”

“ _Today, they’re all leaving soon,_ ” Tony says. “ _Coaxed the damn Hulk back out of his cave, Rhodey’s got a better suit, Carol is—out of this world, we’re good. They’re gonna go squash the grape, we’ll do our staff routine and stab the grass real hard and then we’ll get you back here and buy you a bunch of swords._ ”

“Okay, take these pills,” Lang says. “And you’re good. Oh, wait, I got you a sandwich.”

“You got me a sandwich?” Peter exclaims, sitting up. 

“ _Do not let him take credit for the sandwich—before he flew on out of here without permission, I was telling him when he went he should bring you a sandwich. With extra pickles._ ”

“Oh my God, Mr. Stark—”

“You got _just him_ a sandwich?” Sam yells.

“I got everybody sandwiches!” Lang says. He shoves a water bottle at Peter and nods at the pills. “Take ‘em!”

Peter does, and eagerly grabs the sandwich when Scott holds it out to him. The water tastes so good. The sandwich looks incredible. He can’t believe this is happening.

“ _Okay, I don’t know how long Mr. Ant is gonna be in there, so I wanna tell you—I don’t know how it’s gonna work, when we get you out, but just stay calm, because whatever it is, it’s gonna work out._ ”

“Okay,” Peter says, biting into the turkey sandwich. His eyes nearly roll back into his head. “Be careful,” he says, after a moment of chewing.

“ _Don’t be saying goodbye just yet._ ”

“I’m not, I just wanted to say it,” Peter says, his mouth full. “And uh, Steve—we need—well, I mean, you need to make sure nothing happens to him.”

“ _Okay, buddy, I’ll keep Captain America from playing in the sandbox._ ”

“No, c’mon, for real….he’s got things to do.”

“ _What’s that mean?_ ” 

Peter sighs. He looks up and sees Scott climbing through the crate piles too, and Bucky is still a few feet away. “Just that he’s got stuff to do, that’s all, don’t let him die. Don’t let either of you die.”

“ _We will definitely not die._ ”

“What are you up to, man?” Sam asks Lang.

“I’m gonna dive into some of these bad boys,” Lang says. “Just wanna do some canvassing. I can make my way back to you through the quantum realm because I’ve got your signature, I’ll be right back.” And then Peter watches him literally jump into one of the crates.

“Mr. Stark, the ant guy just jumped into a crate.”

“ _Yeah, we’d discussed him having a look around. Honestly he left before we could make any real plans, but I think all the freaking out might have made him take some initiative—_ ”

“You also told him you were gonna give him any amount of money,” Peter says, continuing to eat.

“ _Yeah, I tend to do that, just…offer up money when I need things done like, immediately._ ”

Peter sighs, touching the bandage around his middle. “Mr. Stark…Tony, I just. I mean. Just in case—”

“ _Nope._ ”

“No, let me—”

“ _Just tell me when you get home._ ”

“I just wanted to say thank you! Thanks! For everything. All the time, just—you’re the best.”

There’s a long silence and Peter sighs. 

“ _I haven’t done nearly enough shit for you kid, but I’m gonna try to do better, okay? You’re the one that’s done all the important stuff, I’ve just been hovering around like an anxious bird or something—_ ”

Peter laughs, shaking his head. 

“ _—but you, you’re the one that’s gonna be there when we’re not, so—_ ”

“Uh, remember, what you said? Invincible? One hundred and fifty?”

“ _Yeah, yeah, true. I guess I’ll be around for a bit to bother you, hope that’s fine._ ”

“Yes,” Peter says. “More than fine. Definitely necessary.”

They talk for a little longer, and Tony definitely seems like he’s trying to distract him, keep his mind off all this bullshit. He talks about this Shiba Inu dog that one of the Wakanda doctors has, and Peter shares way too much information about every move that Elvis has made since they found him. He’s really gonna miss this cat.

“ _Hey, Tony,_ ” Lang’s voice says.

“ _Ant, I thought I told you this was a conversation to which you were not invited—_ ”

“ _Yeah, I told them on one already, but I think I found something._ ”

“Found what?” both Tony and Peter ask at the same time.

Then a weird circle appears a couple feet in front of Peter and his heart nearly stops—he staggers to his feet, still holding onto the remains of his sandwich like a weapon, but then both Lang and Dr. Strange step out.

“Holy fuck,” Peter breathes.

“ _What is it, what’d he find, you okay?_ ”

“Hello Spiderman,” Strange says, nodding at him. 

“Oh my God,” Peter says.

“It’s good to see you, I knew you were in here somewhere. I threw out two signatures when I first woke up, it was the most I could manage. Sort of like anchors, from here to Earth. They were weak, they could only be taken by certain people, certain pairs—I wasn’t sure who would grab them, but I was hoping it’d be two of us. I knew you and Tony were one of the major options, considering your connection. I guess you are his ward after all.”

Peter can’t do anything but stare. “You did this?” he asks.

“ _Pete, is that Strange? Is Strange in there with you?_ ”

“Yeah, yeah…it’s him, it’s Strange.”

“The other one was Barnes, right?” Strange asks, looking around. “I thought you might lose it when they got the soul stone, but we had it long enough for them to locate us, create a plan. The proper amount of motivation.”

“ _He’s okay?_ ” Tony says. “ _Shit, let’s switch back to channel one._ ”

Peter nods, and quickly presses a button, hoping it’s the right one. Everybody is talking, but nobody seems to be answering anybody else. 

“The wizard is in here,” Drax says, over the coms.

“ _Strange, we have Strange—_ ”

“He’s the one that did the thing, the uh, the magic,” Peter says. “He made the brain connections, between me and Tony and Bucky and Steve.”

“And I’ve been doing some digging,” Strange says. “I can’t make portals to the outside, but I can make portals inside this dimension—and I’ve been doing some gathering.”

He steps aside and then a wave of people start appearing. Men, women, kids, animals, aliens, all kinds of weird looking aliens—one little girl walks up to Peter, looks at his sandwich, and he hands over what’s left of it without thinking. The ceiling makes a noise that sounds like thunder, the blackness dripping, and Peter looks up briefly, before focusing back on the seemingly endless stream of beings coming through. 

“Holy shit, he’s found a ton of people,” Sam says. 

Peter looks over, makes eye contact with Bucky. 

“ _Make sure they’re all good, kid, don’t let anybody do anything weird, keep yourself safe—_ ” Tony says.

Steve’s voice next. “ _Buck, how’s it look? Everybody seem good? Don’t want any more alien confrontations—_ ”

“I’m keeping an eye out,” Bucky says, walking back over.

They keep flooding out and then she’s there. Peter’s breath catches. She’s there, May is pushing through the crowd, her eyes wide, her glasses crooked but otherwise she’s fine, she’s fine, she’s calling his name and it’s almost too much to take—she’s there, she’s there and he stumbles forward, nearly knocks some guy out of the way because she’s actually, actually there.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she says, grabbing him and holding him tight. “Oh honey, thank God. Thank God.”

He’s crying, clinging to her.

“ _Kid, you okay?_ ” Tony asks. 

“May’s here,” Peter breathes, gasping. 

“ _Oh thank God._ ”

She leans back, cupping his face in her hands. “Oh my God, as soon as I saw Tony was missing I knew, I knew you were with him and I just waited, I kept waiting, I was across the hall with Edgar and Sydney and then it just—it just started happening—”

“I missed you,” Peter says, softly. “God, so much.”

Everyone stops flooding out, and Strange peeks his head inside the portal before closing it again. Peter never wants to let go of May, holding onto her like he’s a child. He looks down, sees Elvis by his feet looking wild-eyed, and he quickly bends down and picks him up.

“Bucky Barnes,” a voice says, and Peter looks up, sees a good looking black man approaching Bucky. He’s seen him before, he recognizes him—it’s the Black Panther.

“T’Challa, thank God,” Bucky says, walking over and taking him by the forearms.

“My sister, my mother—”

“They’re both fine,” Bucky says, fast. “They’re not in here.”

“ _Lang, you good in there? We need to get ready._ ” It’s a woman’s voice that Peter doesn’t recognize. 

“No, no,” Peter says, straightening up, still holding onto May’s shoulder. He knows as soon as Lang leaves, Tony’s gone too. He looks up at Bucky and sees the pain in his eyes. 

“What’s wrong, Peter?” May asks, petting his hair.

“I can’t, uh—the communication devices, they’ll cut out when Ant Man leaves—”

“Are you talking to Tony?” May asks, and Peter nods. “He’s on the outside?”

“Yeah,” Peter says. 

“I wish I could take you all out with me,” Lang says, swallowing hard. 

May quickly plucks the ear piece out of Peter’s ear and he gasps, watching as she pushes it into her own. “Space, Stark? Space? You took Peter to Space? What was the one place I told you never to take him?”

“May!” Peter yells, but May holds him at arm’s length, which really isn’t that far away. 

“Well, now there are two places!” May yells, and Peter quickly grabs the ear piece back, stumbling away from her. Elvis meows loudly.

“Oh my God, Mr. Stark, I’m so sorry.”

“ _No problem, kid, not the first time a beautiful woman has yelled at me in front of dozens of people. Oh, and we can never go to Vegas, just for future reference. Apparently it’s a rule._ ”

Peter blushes, looking over at May as she crosses her arms over her chest, holding her head high. “Ugh, I don’t want the communicator to stop working.”

“ _Don’t worry, Peter—Sam, Buck, Guardians—it isn’t gonna be too much longer,_ " Tony says. " _Within the goddamn hour I guarantee you. They’re gonna smash that asshole to pieces, we’ll do our thing. And then you’ll be home._ ”

Peter closes his eyes, trying not to have a heart attack. The others are talking, saying goodbyes, Steve ribbing Sam, his voice going a little more tender when he talks to Bucky. 

“ _Hey, Peter?_ ” Steve’s voice asks.

Peter snaps to attention, his arm still around May’s shoulders. “Yes, Captain Rogers?”

“ _Thanks for keeping Bucky on his toes,_ ” he says.

“Oh, you’re welcome,” Peter says, grinning over at Bucky, who shakes his head and winks at him. “Anytime.”

“ _Kid,_ ” Tony says. 

“Yeah?” Peter asks, chewing on his lower lip, trying not to tear up.

“ _I’m about to order those pizzas._ ”


	12. Chapter 12

Tony isn’t used to being this far away from the fight. 

He isn’t used to getting to hold and kiss Pepper because he knows he’s gonna go do something stupid. Usually he just runs off, gets drawn in, receives an angry phone call or misses a few, and yeah, he can make up for it when he’s back, but actually getting to have a moment—a real, quiet moment, before heading out to risk his life again, is very strange. But he doesn’t use those words—he doesn’t say risk his life, not once, not one single time. All he says is he’s gonna get Peter back. He’s gonna get everybody back.

He and Steve march out across what became the battlefield during Thanos’s reign of terror, and Tony keeps thinking about goodbyes. Goodbye to Pepper. Goodbye to Happy on the phone. Goodbye to Rhodey and everybody else as Carol whisked them away to go smash some shit and save the world. Goodbye to Peter on a grainy-sounding communicator that went in and out whenever Scott moved. Tony doesn’t like to think in endings, in befores and afters, and he tries to squelch the part of him that keeps chanting _this is it, this is the end, this is the end._

Shuri had sounded completely elated in her few moments of speaking to T’Challa, which Tony is loath to admit brought a tear to his eye. He’d watched as Steve stepped aside to say his last words to Bucky on channel three, heard him murmuring soft and quiet. Rogers feels like a mystery to him sometimes, but he wants to crack this egg. He hates how much came between them and he wonders if this is really all solid enough to maintain if there is another side, a life after what’s about to happen.

They’ve got the sword in its sheath and Steve is carrying it, which Tony had been a little worried about, but it seems to be turning out fine. There are no more bodies out here—they took care of the ones that were lost before Thanos snapped his fingers. Tony wishes they could do something about that too, that they could save everybody was lost in this fight. He was glad to hear they gathered what they could of the ashes. It means he isn’t completely insane for letting the thought cross his mind.

But now he knows Peter isn’t ash. Peter is real, and recently ate a sandwich, and is with his aunt and a few other trustworthy people. Tony feels better about that, but it worries him more, knowing what they have to lose. 

“We’re almost there,” Steve says, as they walk into the forest. The ground is burnt, the trees are torn up and Tony can only imagine what happened here. It’s weird, they haven’t actually gotten into specifics. He knows he sure as hell doesn’t want to talk about it, so he doesn’t try to push Steve, either. He knows there is only so much a person can take, and he wonders what’ll happen if the universe keeps knocking the shit out of them like it’s been tending to do. He’s always felt safer in the suit, since he blasted himself out of that cave and piled on upgrades upon upgrades every time he experienced another flaw. The nanotech is close to the top of his list, he’s covered, safe, and far from the action, worlds and worlds away. But he feels like a raw nerve, exposed, like the slightest wind will knock him over.

If this doesn’t work, Tony doesn’t know what the fuck either of them are going to do.

“We were out here,” Steve says, walking through a crossing, glancing at a few broken down trees. “He, uh—he came from down there, picked us off one by one—I tried to keep his fist open, to keep him from doing anything, but it didn’t—it didn’t take, I wasn’t strong enough.”

Tony shakes his head at him. “None of us were,” he says. “He stabbed me, did I tell you that? I threw a bunch of shit at him, all my best tricks, and all I got was a little scratch on his face. And then he stabbed me.”

Steve’s eyes are wide. “He—Jesus, Carol mentioned that before, didn’t she? At the lunch.”

“Yeah, I swerved out of explaining that one to you there.”

“Tony, are you alright? What happened?”

Tony waves him off. The foggy memories between Titan and New York have been clearing up since he first heard Peter in his head, but they’re still tinged with a level of trauma he isn’t yet ready to acknowledge. “I’m fine, Nebula and I—we fixed it up, I did some more work when I got home, you know, before I collapsed in my office and never got up.” 

Steve sighs, looks lost.

Tony sighs too. They purposefully didn’t go on coms for this battle, so they wouldn’t focus on what they couldn’t help, but it’s all Tony can fucking think about. Carol’s optimism hadn’t been as contagious as she’d hoped, and all Tony can think of is how much hinges on every fucking thing they do. Rhodey is there, without him, another fucking battle without him. Bruce, Natasha, Thor, Clint, everybody, all of them—Tony doesn’t want to lose one more person. 

“We were so close,” Tony says, taking a couple steps forward, leaves breaking under his feet. “We had it, we had him. I was too goddamn slow, I could have stopped him before he even got here.”

“We’re all thinking that,” Steve says, looking at him with that open expression that makes Tony balk a little in the face of it. “You can’t blame yourself, this wasn’t on one person. And we’re fixing it.”

“Yeah,” Tony huffs. “Yeah, let’s, uh, let’s not count our chickens before they hatch.”

“I have faith,” Steve says. “They’re right within our reach, it would be…too cruel, if we couldn’t grab them, at this point.”

Tony knows Steve has seen a lot of cruelty in his life, what he’s had to go through, what he’s had to miss and lose. He doesn’t know if the statement is standing against what he’s had to deal with, the impossibility of having to deal with more, or if he just refuses to let it bring him down. 

“He was right over here,” Steve says. “With Thor, when he, uh, when he did it.”

“I’m sure Thor is gonna get his licks in,” Tony says, walking over to stand beside Steve. The ground is charred and torn up, and it makes Tony nervous. He doesn’t say anything about it. “Just so you know, Pepper told me in very uncertain terms that she will come running down here if she senses the slightest thing is off with me. So she could easily be on her way right now. We have backup.”

Steve snorts, smiling at him. “You’re lucky you have her.”

“I’m highly aware,” Tony says. “She’s beyond anything I ever pictured for my future.”

“You deserve her,” Steve says, nodding. “You two deserve each other.”

Tony scoffs because he doesn’t deserve shit, he deserves a life of making up for his mistakes. He’s insanely lucky, with what he’s gotten—Pepper, the kid, Rhodey, Happy, everybody—and he looks at Steve. Things weren’t perfect before but they were good, Tony appreciated the comradery and the look behind the curtain. Like when he found Steve snoring, _drooling_ on the couch in the common room with goddamn Finding Nemo playing. Tony had taken about a thousand photos and videos, hadn’t experienced that kind of delight in a long time. 

“Listen, I, uh—what are you doing after this? Because it’d be cool if you, like—stuck around. I’m sure Ross is gonna have to stick his head in the sand after we save the world. And then we’ll make things right.” He swallows hard, hates this kinda sentimental shit. 

“I appreciate it, Tony—”

“Well I’m like, insisting—”

Steve smiles then, genuinely, but he doesn’t say anything else.

Tony feels everything building up and he sighs, shaking his head. “I, uh—I’m sorry. About all of it. About the whole thing and the silence after—it didn’t go down the way I wanted, at all—”

“I’m sorry, too, I was wrong—”

“ _I_ was wrong—”

“We were both wrong,” Steve says. “I wish I could take it back.”

“And your—Bucky,” Tony says, blinking a couple times. “I—I wasn’t thinking. Completely emotional reaction, insanity, all I could think was my mom, my mom—”

“I know,” Steve says, looking down at his feet. “I know now.”

“—but I—I know he was—not himself. And here, this situation—he’s been taking care of the kid when he didn’t have to, could have easily just—been selfish, every man for himself—”

“That’s not how he is,” Steve says. 

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” Tony says. “And now the kid’s got him under his spell too, so watch out, you’re gonna be having Bucky following him around and monitoring his vitals like a creep like I do.”

Steve snorts, shaking his head. Then a softer smile forms on his face, and he meets Tony’s eyes again. This is the better than the Captain America Howard Stark knew, Tony thinks. He’s more than what they made him. He’s everything he was before that serum, and all the love and devotion and loss that’s made him stronger. He isn’t just a poster boy. 

“I was worried when I saw that you were missing that, uh, we’d never get to resolve any of this,” Steve says. “And then when he did what he did—and you weren’t answering—”

“Sorry about that,” Tony says, feeling a little bit like he’s back in school all over again.

“I’m just—I’m glad we were able to, uh—resolve—”

“Me too,” Tony says, clearing his throat. Jesus, these goddamn emotions. He needs to figure out how to suppress them, they’re ridiculous.

“You’re a good man, Tony.”

“Nah.”

“You are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Tony, I’m literally holding a sword.”

Tony laughs outright, rubbing his eyes. “Yeah, that’s true. We need to whip that thing out, get ready here.” Christ, he wonders how it’s going. He knows Carol could burst in any moment, telling them he’s dead, that they’re up. Or—silence. Nothing at all. He blows out a sigh, watching Steve nod. “Anyways, maybe I’m a good man _now_ but you always have been, so, like—you’re a good example.” A sentence he never, ever thought he’d be saying out loud. Seriously, these emotions are outrageous and he’s offended by them. “So, uh—you guys gonna hang around? When we fix everything? Because we’re gonna fix everything.”

“Yeah,” Steve says. “We’ll stick around.”

It feels like a gigantic weight lifted, and Tony tries hard to mask his emotions. 

“Good,” he says. “We’re gonna have to get you a real phone. Flip phone ain’t gonna cut it. I think you’re gonna be an Apple guy, I have a feeling.”

“I’m more of a banana guy,” Steve says. Tony is about to laugh but he looks up and sees the sly look on Steve’s face—and then he laughs _harder._

“Good one, Cap, you’re getting good at this,” Tony says. 

“Sam’s been intent on keeping me updated on everything,” Steve says. “But I’ve been aware of Apple for longer than you’d probably expect.”

Tony nods, wetting his lips. Steve unsheathes the sword and tosses the cover aside, and Tony quickly grabs his side of the handle so Steve isn’t holding it alone. He adjusts his grip and his heart rattles in his chest. 

“I wish we could talk to them right now,” Steve says. “Bucky and Peter.”

“Me too,” Tony says. “Kid’s always a good distraction.” It’s probably better they can’t talk to them now, because he knows Peter would absolutely be losing his shit. Tony looks over and sees Steve has a sort of faraway look in his eyes. “Just so you know I’m having a party after this,” Tony says, stupidly. “Big one, uh—so you gotta be there. I’ll get Thor to bring some of that extra strong alcohol so you can have a good time.”

Steve actually grins. “I’ll be there,” he says.

Then there’s a crackling in Tony’s ears. He winces, nearly letting go of the sword, and Steve looks over at him. Tony doesn’t know how long it’s been since they heard from Carol. It feels like forever, and a few seconds at the same time.

“Shit, what is that?” Steve asks.

“I don’t know, I don’t think she’d contact us if—”

“ _It’s over!_ ” Carol’s voice says. She’s breathing hard. “ _Stark, Rogers, you copy?_ ”

Tony feels dizzy, his throat tight with anticipation. “Danvers, it’s done? He’s gone?”

" _Now!_ ” she yells. “ _Now, now!_ ”

“Okay Tony—”

“Steve—”

“We’ve got this.”

“On three,” Tony says, gripping the sword tight, trying not to think of anything else but this, this, what this will do, what this needs to do.

“One.”

“Two!”

“Three!” Steve shouts.

Tony grits his teeth and they turn the sword, the blades glinting in the orange glare of the sun. It’s difficult, heavy resistance, and Tony groans, planting his feet firmly in the dirt and charred earth where Thanos did on that day when everything ended. Tony squeezes his eyes shut, trying not to think about his heart giving out or some crazy shit, and finally both pieces line up and click into place. He can feel the power surging already, and they both scream, out of adrenaline, pain, he doesn’t know what, but they shift and sink the sword on Steve’s end directly into the ground. Tony opens his eyes to see the stones shining, bright and colorful, and then he sees a lot more than that.

It’s his whole life—Steve’s too—wrapping around him in translucent sheets, every word Howard didn’t say, every hug he didn’t get, every single day night rainy afternoon in no order, mixing and blending together—Steve fighting in back alleyways, pretending to study with Bucky in the corner of the library when they were actually looking at magazines—all of it flies by in stark relief, the words cascading in and out of his ears like a television with bad sound. Everything shines and sparkles, drawing him in, speeding up and slowing down like a flip book. He smells apple pie, bourbon, feels it spilling, nearly drowns, freezes to death, cries himself to sleep, watches Pepper walk away and come back and worry over him, listens to the crackle of Peggy’s voice, the firm press of Bucky’s hand over calloused fingertips, Nick Fury’s growl in an uncertain future. Peter, seeing his new suit. Peter, falling out of the sky. Happy tackling Tony to the ground. Once, twice, eight times. He feels that red toy car crunch under Howard’s foot. Pepper’s trembling hand when Tony slipped the ring onto her finger. Steve waking up. Over and over. Horror, horror. 

Weapons in both lives, weapons he made, grenades tearing through air towards Steve and they boom, rumbling through Tony’s bones and he can’t place himself, in his own life, Steve’s, here, then, now—Pepper screams, Rhodey falls, Bucky tries to kill him, kill Steve. Peter swings between two pieces of a ferry, his face falls and Tony’s heart breaks and that’s here, then, both. Happy grimacing in that new Italian restaurant they never went to again. Steve in what looks like Malta, Natasha snickering behind him, Sam clicking his tongue and shaking his head. Tony and Steve both knocking each other to kingdom come, punching, kicking, hurting. It feels big, too big, loud, breaking them both.

The emotions are everywhere too, like ten pound blocks sitting on Tony’s chest. Steve laughing, Tony watching, the Avengers all together in the common room like real friends, Clint a little too drunk, Natasha a little too loud, everything a little too perfect. Peter’s face when they made the mistake of watching Titanic, and Tony knew he should have turned that shit off before it hit the iceberg. Bucky yelling _no, not without you_ and Steve’s whole body trembling. Pepper screaming on the rollercoaster and Tony laughing, laughing, a joy so big it consumed him. Rhodey faking that fight in college, and the blood is metal, Tony’s tongue sinking into one of his incisors as he tries to put on a show for the other undergrads. Pepper and Peter making broccoli and cheese. Peter accidentally calling him dad and taking off down the street in pure horrific embarrassment. Tony picking him back up five minutes later.

The cave, the cave, Yinsen, his promise. 

_I’m not gonna fight you. You’re my friend._

Tony’s hands hurt. Steve steadying him when the explosion goes off. 

Bruce sleeping, bringing over Thai food. Tony can smell it.

Pepper painting the walls, flicking silver flecks over in his direction. He can see them cascade through the air.

Spiderman gleefully handing a pink leather purse back over to a little old lady and Tony can still feel the leather, can still see Peter’s smile when he pulled up the mask.

May whispering, tears in her eyes, _you always bring him home. You always bring him home, you hear me?_

All of it ripping through him, every memory, every inch of every moment of both of their lives blown up like big balloons, sharp as diamonds, getting bigger in his ears and his eyes and creating a headache, a migraine, a tumor, death, pain, hopelessness. And hope, weightlessness, everything. Memories that aren’t memories, more like premonitions, Pepper in a wedding dress, Pepper holding a baby. Steve with grey hair, Bucky beside him on some ridge in what looks like Colorado. Tony walking through the Kresge Auditorium at MIT with Peter, and Peter looks older, looks happier.

The years speed by so fast and so bright and Tony can’t see it all, can’t see any of it, can hear words but can’t string them together, lightning streaming through his veins, pain exploding, striping his skin away, flaying him alive.

They’re torn out of the display and thrown backwards, away from the sword. They crash down, hard, and the suit falters and opens around him, the nanotech racing back into the housing unit. Tony's body hits the ground and his arm bends, snaps, burning. The air is stale, the sun beating down, and they’re broken.

Tony’s left arm. The pain is fucking outrageous.

He can’t think.

He can’t see, everything’s blurry.

Can’t move, can’t move his arm, he gasps, can’t fucking breathe

can’t breathe 

can’t say

can’t 

A voice. 

“Steve?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm going on vacation for three days don't kill me


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this on vacation because I can't get away! Only two more to go :)

Bucky doesn’t know which silence has been worse. The beginning silence, which could have gone on for ages. The death silence, when he was sure Steve was gone, his voice snuffed out and lost forever. Or this silence—the waiting for the world to begin again. Or to stay stagnant and dark, the group of them stuck here until the end of time. Strangely enough, he isn’t sure if it would be the worst thing that’s happened to him. Wondering about Steve, accepting the fact that he died out there, alone—that would be the torture.

He wishes Lang would have stayed here, so they could have kept communicating.

Peter nudges into his shoulder, and Bucky looks up at him. “Looks like you’re doing a lot of thinking,” Peter says.

“That obvious?”

“Don’t blame you,” Peter says. He looks over to where his aunt is; she’d been in a section of this place with a teenage boy and two twin girls who only look like they’re about four or five, and she seems to be trying to keep them distracted. As soon as Lang left Strange had gone to keep searching for more people, and he’d returned about six or seven times with big groups. The area looks a lot different with everybody here. Bucky thinks back to when it was just him, and then just him and Peter. Now it’s them and a couple hundred other beings—an orange guy with horns, things that look like giant lizards, guys with pointed ears, a green woman that Drax and Groot know that’s looking for her boyfriend, a couple aliens that resemble the one that attacked Peter but seem a lot more relaxed. Bucky still keeps an eye on them. There are so many different aliens here that he can’t even keep track of them all.

“How’s your stomach doing?” Bucky asks, looking down at the white bandages.

“Better,” Peter says, nodding. “Medicine really did the trick, and as soon as we’re outta here I bet my healing factor is gonna kick in. This place is just messing with me.”

As soon as we’re outta here. Bucky repeats it in his head a couple times, trying to ignore the fact that Steve isn’t there anymore, can’t hear him, can’t let his voice fill up Bucky’s ears from worlds away.

“Speaking of, uh, out of here,” Peter says. “I just wanna tell you that, like...I wanna see you, I don’t want you to go ghost on me or something, I mean, where do you even live?”

Bucky smiles at him, a spike of affection running through his chest. “Wakanda, for now,” he says. “Where they’ve been hanging out these past couple days.”

“Yeah, I saw it on the news when they opened it up to the world,” Peter says, staring straight ahead, briefly glancing up as a couple kids run by. Nobody seems like they know what to do here, and most of the young ones are trying to climb the crates. Sam looks like he’s trying to corral them away.

“You’d like it there, I think,” Bucky says. “The technology is well beyond anything I could have ever imagined. I bet it’s even a lot for Stark to take, for you it’d be like a playground.”

Peter’s eyes are wide but he doesn’t say anything.

“So you should definitely visit me there,” Bucky says. “You, your aunt, Stark, whoever you want. We could set it all up, it wouldn’t be a problem.” He likes speaking in positives, it helps him focus, keeps him from thinking worst case scenarios. “And Steve, uh, well, I don’t know. New York was always our home, and he’s gotten plenty of time to make amends, figure things out with Stark—Tony. So I can probably see us making it back there.”

“That would be awesome,” Peter says. He looks down at his hands in his lap. “Both, uh—me visiting, you—you guys coming home.” He clears his throat. “For the longest time I was like really into looking for bad things going on so I could help, but now after this I kinda....wanna take a time out.”

“Don’t blame you,” Bucky says. Being dead can do that to a guy.

“But I know I won’t, though,” Peter says. “I just...can’t imagine knowing things are happening and not trying to stop them and help people. Not when I know I can.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Bucky says. Even in the peacefulness of his farm, part of him wondered if he should be out there, trying to do something. But for him it might be more about making amends. He knows what he did wasn’t his own choice but it happened all the same, and he feels like, if he does enough good, he might be able to make up for some of it. Maybe. Peter is just good, plain and simple, and might have been one of the casualties of a cruel world even if he didn’t ever get his powers. Steve is the one Bucky wishes would take a time out. An extended break, a moment to himself. For once.

“Are you worried?” Peter asks. And the way he asks it makes it clear that he _is_ worried, but he probably doesn’t want to worry Bucky because of the absolute breakdown he had once they lost the connection. And the secret he shared, which he hadn’t really meant to do. The kid just brings out the honesty in him.

“Yeah,” Bucky says. He isn’t used to getting what he wants, no matter how hard he wants it. So knowing how much he wants this to be okay is making him nervous, like the universe will feel it and turn it sour at the last minute.

Thankfully, they’re not technically in their universe at the moment. So hopefully it can’t feel him hoping.

“But like we said before, those two—they can do anything. Shit, they make a good team when they’re not beating each other to hell, right?”

“Yeah,” Peter says. “I’ve never gotten to be part of an Avengers battle when they’re on the same side.”

“Well, not that I’m hoping for more battles, but I think that’s probably gonna be the only team we’ve got from now on. Iron Man and Cap united.” And he prefers it. He prefers harmony, as much as he thinks Tony is kind of a shit human being. If Peter likes him, he can’t be that bad. As long as he doesn’t try to kill him again, Bucky thinks they can tolerate each other for the kid’s sake.

They watch Peter’s aunt chase after the twin girls, making them squeal. Peter had briefly caught Bucky up on the state of his family, which made him worry even more for Tony’s wellbeing on the other side of this. He elbows Peter a little bit on his good side. “It was really funny when she yelled at Tony on the coms. I wonder how many people heard that.”

Peter goes red and he rolls his eyes. “Yeah, she does that kinda stuff with him a lot.”

“Knock him down a few pegs.”

The ceiling makes a noise and it’s almost commonplace at this point, they’d explained it to the newcomers and found out it had been doing it where they were, too. But instead of the silence that usually follows, it rumbles again, and then the crate that Bucky is sitting on completely disappears, fading away into ash.

He falls to the ground and looks up at Peter’s panicked face.

“What’s going on?” Peter asks. He looks around, breathing harder, and Bucky wavers to his feet. “May? Where are you?”

“She was close,” Bucky says, absentmindedly. The ceiling crackles again, angrier this time, and he hears a few people exclaim as more crates fade. It looks exactly like his hand did when he faded out of existence in Wakanda, and he doesn’t know what the fuck it means that it’s happening here.

The ceiling is in a rage, like a pot boiling over, the blackness bubbling and storming. People are yelling, aliens are roaring, Elvis the cat goes shooting by and running into the crowd. The area seems like it’s getting brighter, like it did when the lights came on to begin with, but slower, with a different kind of feeling and purpose behind it.

Peter isn’t next to him anymore. Bucky can’t hear his voice. Crates are disappearing everywhere and the ceiling gurgles and pops and sounds like a machine gun, a hurricane. Steve and Tony were too late. The world is breaking apart and it’s gonna take them with it.

“What the hell’s happening?” Sam asks, appearing beside him.

“No idea,” Bucky says, his heart in his throat. The light is stemming from far in the distance, a point back behind them that’s getting bigger and bigger. It consumes the darkness, looks like a truck coming down an empty road with no streetlights—Bucky has seen some ominous shit in his life, but he can feel this one in his bones. Chills run up and down his arms and he swallows hard, trying to keep his head. “Peter?” he yells, looking around. Where the fuck did he go?

“Is that something coming?” someone yells. “That light?”

Bucky doesn’t know—he hears an array of answers, more questions in different languages, some screams, and the light just gets brighter, making his head ache like it did before. Some of the crates start to burst open and more people drag themselves out, more alien looking things that people drop down to help despite how different they look. Bucky doesn’t know what the fuck is happening, where Strange is—he might be able to do something, anything to help, because he seems to know more about this whole shitstorm of a situation than any of the rest of them do.

Bucky bends to help a woman out of a crate and he barely drags her out before the crate disappears. The storm above rages, louder and louder.

“Jesus,” Sam’s voice says, as he runs into Bucky’s shoulder. “Jesus, they’re—”

The light is getting bigger, approaching them, and Bucky hears a high pitched ringing in his ears. He can hardly concentrate and he sees the crate pyramids toppling down as they disintegrate, more people coming out of them just in time. And then he sees it—the last fucking thing they need right now—two more aliens burst out of a crate and they’re big, wild beasts, scales shining inky green in the glaring light, their fangs bigger than the one from days ago, and that’s when everybody starts to run. The crates are disappearing faster and people keep knocking into Bucky as they race past, trying to get away, and he doesn’t know what the fuck to do, what to think, he just needs to fucking find Peter, he has to find him.

“C’mon, dude—” Sam’s voice says, as he’s pushed forward again. “Those things can fuck us up, and this light shit, the crates crumbling, we gotta—damn, I don’t know, we gotta go.”

“What? No, I need to find—”

The next crash from the ceiling is deafening and they almost drop under the sound, the group moving faster as the light continues to get closer and closer, the monsters roaring. The light is so bright and Bucky can barely see, only flashes of movement, small reflections. He can’t focus, people are screaming, everything is happening all at once and this is the fucking end.

“Peter?” he screams, terrified he’s fucked up again, too scared to run without him, too scared to see him get taken down again. The monsters came out of one of the further stacks of crates but they’re galloping towards them fast, and Bucky tries to find Peter in the midst of their growing crowd. “Peter, Peter, where are you?” He spins around, yells til he’s hoarse, thinking of Steve and Tony waiting for a resolution that would never come.

He watches the woman next to him fade to ash.

Sam is beside him, still holding onto his arm, when he fades to ash too.

Shock runs through Bucky and his heart is out of control and the group thins, ash, ash, one of the twin girls stands there crying and then fades. He can hear Peter calling his name as he stumbles back—he watches the monsters spit and roar as they turn, one ashing and then the other doing the same as the light comes cascading in, bright and painful, like looking directly into the sun.

“Peter?” he yells.

“Bucky!”

“Peter! Peter!”

All of them start crumbling then, one after the other after the other in quick succession, and he sees Peter hanging onto his aunt as he quickly falls away, ash through her fingers. Bucky feels sick, nearly drops to his knees, hoping this means they’re getting out, hoping it’s that and just that, not death, Peter can’t be dead, he can’t, he can’t, his aunt is screaming and he can’t be, he can’t—and then Bucky feels it, feels it happening to him too, just like it did before. He looks down at his hand and watches it crumble, and he’s almost relieved.

The light consumes the rest of them before he can think of anything else.

 

 

He wakes up again on damp grass. He feels dizzy, overheated, and he reaches up to wipe the sweat off his forehead. His forehead—he still has a forehead, and hands, and a body. Not ash. Not ash. He blinks, trying not to puke, and when he looks up he realizes where he is. He’s back in a Wakanda. He’s here, he’s back, he fucking made it.

Peter isn’t here. 

Bucky’s heart is racing and he sucks in a breath, looking around, trying to find him, and that’s when he sees.

Steve. On the ground.

Bucky’s mouth goes dry. “Steve?” he croaks, crawling over to him fast as he can. He can’t think straight, his head is spinning but Steve doesn’t look good, Steve needs him. “Steve?” he says again, when he reaches him, quickly grabbing hold of his hand. He reaches for his neck with trembling fingers and finds his pulse point—his heartbeat is thready, but it’s there. He’s alive, he’s alive. Right here, right in front of him.

Steve’s right arm looks like it’s been burned, fresh blisters all over it, and it’s twisted at an unnatural angle.

Bucky breathes hard, unsure of what to do. There’s nobody else around, Tony isn’t even here, Peter isn’t fucking here. Bucky thinks he might hear something in the distance, but then Steve makes a little noise, turning his face towards him.

“Hey, hey,” Bucky whispers, touching his cheek.

“Buck?” Steve says, so softly, looking at him from under hooded eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s me,” Bucky says, tears springing to his eyes. Fuck, this isn’t good. He can’t lose him, he can’t lose him, not now, not after all this. He’s here. He’s back in the world. They’re together.

“You’re back,” Steve says, dazed. “You’re here. Thank God. It worked, God…it worked.” Every word seems like a struggle.

“I am, I’m right here,” Bucky says. “Stay sharp, Rogers, don’t conk out on me here.”

“I’m sharp,” Steve says, his head falling to the side. “You’re really…here.”

“I am,” Bucky says, trying to hold his gaze. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I know you hate that.”

Bucky hopes he’s not the only one that’s back. He left here, so it makes sense that he appeared here when he came back. Maybe Peter is on that planet. He has to be. Bucky still hears yelling, but just barely. His world feels narrowed down. Steve. Only Steve.

“Tony,” Steve whispers. “Where’s—where is he?”

Bucky looks up again. He doesn’t see anything, and he sorta feels like he’s gonna have a heart attack. He sits up on his knees—he thinks he sees a foot behind the trunk of a tree but he isn’t sure, and he sees the sword lying a couple paces away. It also looks charred. He looks down again—Steve’s eyes are closing and Bucky scoots forward, clasping his hand tighter. “No, Steve,” he says, rubbing his thumb over Steve’s cheekbone. 

Peter had said touchstone, and now—now—Bucky knows he’s right. Staring down at the face he’d recognize anywhere, the face that led him back from darkness, everything else is blurry, muted. Steve is in bright living color. His touchstone.

But Steve is fading.

“Steve,” Bucky breathes, leaning in closer as Steve’s eyes slip all the way closed. “Stay with me. Hey.”

He hears the yelling in the distance. It might be his name, he isn’t sure. And then there’s a sharp rush of sound like the air being sucked from a room, and then the sound of stumbling. Someone gasping.

Bucky doesn’t look up. He rattles Steve’s cheek, but Steve’s eyes stay closed. He’s too still. _He needs help he needs help I can’t lose him I can’t lose him I can’t lose him._

“Wake up, Steve,” Bucky says, his voice breaking. “Wake up.”


	14. Chapter 14

All Peter sees is dusty red.

“Mr. Parker,” a voice says. A familiar voice. _Get up, Peter. Get up, get up. C’mon, Spiderman._ “Mr. Parker, it’s time to move, I need you to get up.”

Peter groans, squeezing his eyes shut tight. He presses his palm to the dull ground and pushes himself up, and then a hand closes around his arm and gently pulls him to his feet. He hears voices behind him and he turns, opening his eyes.

He’s on Titan. The other three are there—Drax, the girl with antennae, the crazy guy from Missouri. They’re all looking around wild-eyed, and then Peter’s attention is drawn back to the man holding onto him. It’s Dr. Strange.

“Where’s May? Where’s Bucky?” Peter asks. Panic rises in his throat, and his heart drops into his stomach. “Wait, wait, did we—”

“We all rematerialized back where we left from,” Strange says. 

Peter’s mind is running a mile a minute. “Tony—is Tony—”

Dr. Strange takes him by his shoulders and bends a little so they’re on eye level. “I will be back to help you, alright? It doesn’t look good, but you’re the key. Give him some hope, and I’ll get help.” And with that, he makes two swift movements—one, swinging a glittering portal open right in front of Peter, leading to some foresty place, and two, pushing Peter into it.

He stumbles, gasping, and turns to see the portal closing. He hears someone yelling somewhere, he can’t place what they’re saying—it feels like his whole equilibrium is off. He takes two steps to the right and nearly chokes on his own spit.

He’s there. Tony’s there. Splayed out on the ground behind a tree with thick branches. He almost looks like he’s sleeping.

_No, no, no. No no._

Peter rushes forward, collapsing at Tony’s side. Peter can’t breathe, can’t think properly, Tony’s not in the suit, why the hell isn’t he in the suit? Wouldn’t he have done this in the suit? What was he thinking? Peter grasps at him—Tony’s left arm is absolutely burned to hell, and definitely broken. Peter feels sick.

“Mr. Stark,” Peter breathes, grabbing at his shoulder and shaking him. “Tony. Tony, look at me. Tony.” He has to get his attention, he’s gotta wake him up. He’s gotta stop shaking.

Tony’s brow furrows and his head moves a little bit in Peter’s direction. 

_Yes, yes, good, perfect. Moving. Moving is good._ “C’mon, Mr. Stark, I’m here,” Peter says. “C’mon, please.”

Tony’s eyes open slowly and Peter smiles, nodding at him. He can’t believe this. He’s here, he made it, Tony is here—but Tony is hurt. Really bad. The panic has Peter in a vice grip and he focuses on Tony’s face. He smiles again, trying to look encouraging.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s it!” Peter says. 

Tony’s eyes get clear when they see him, fall through confusion to understanding. Happiness. He reaches up, touching Peter’s face, and Peter latches onto his hand, holding it against his cheek.

“Yeah, see? I’m real, I’m right here! No more soul dimension, no more—being gone, I’m here.”

“Pete…” Tony trails off. His voice is raspy, but there’s a small smile on his face. He’s looking at Peter like he’s never seen him before. Or like he’s never gonna see him again.

“It’s me, Tony,” Peter says, tears forming in his eyes. “I’m here, I’m here, you brought me back.”

Tony sighs, wilting. His eyes scan over Peter’s face and Peter clutches at his hand tighter, watching as his eyes close again. 

Another strike of panic. Fear. “No, no, Tony,” Peter says. “You stop—you can’t leave. You can’t go, you can’t. Open your eyes, c’mon. Stay with me.”

Tony relaxes, his face falling, no grip or feeling in his fingers now, and Peter squeezes his hand so hard he thinks he might break it. A tear falls and runs down both of their fingers. 

“No, come on,” Peter gasps, all his failures rushing to the forefront. He sways, dizzy, but holds on, trying to focus, trying not to panic, trying to keep him alive. “Tony, no, you can’t—I can’t lose you, I can’t, I can’t.” He reaches out and shakes him, but Tony doesn’t stir. Peter gasps, sobbing, and leans down, pressing his face to Tony’s shoulder. “No, this isn’t allowed, no, come on, I’m back, you gotta—you gotta be here too—”

Tony’s hand falls away and Peter cries, sobs, clings to him, lives in the horror of this nightmare that’s been plaguing him for years now. Losing someone else. Another person he needs. It’s Ben all over again, his parents, the difference between one moment and the next—how something so essential can be stripped away. He can still feel Tony’s heart beating and he doesn’t know what to do, he can’t help him, he’s not strong enough, smart enough—

He hears a noise and looks up—there’s another portal just a couple feet away, and people are stepping through it with two stretchers. He falls back and away, feels hands pull him to his feet. He feels like he’s in shock, his tears tapering off, and he watches as they gather Tony up and take him. Peter tries to follow but the hands hold him back.

“No,” he says, struggling in their grip. He turns and sees that it’s Strange holding him, and he tries to wrench away. “No, no, I wanna—”

“They’re going to take care of them,” Strange says.

And that’s when Peter sees Steve on a stretcher too, only feet behind Tony. Sam walks out of the thick of the forest, Groot in tow, and Peter turns, his heart raging. He sees Bucky standing there, shoulders slumped in defeat, a haunted look in his eyes. Peter breaks away from Strange and rushes towards him, almost throwing himself into his arms.

“Peter,” Bucky says, almost like he doesn’t believe it, and he holds him loosely at first, his grip getting tighter as Peter’s does. “Jesus, I didn’t—you were—”

Now that he’s back with Bucky he drops into full-out sobbing again almost immediately, burying his face in his shoulder and nearly buckling under his distress. Bucky holds him up, keeps him steady. He’s a mess, everything is a complete mess. 

“I don’t—” Peter gasps, crying so hard his head starts to hurt immediately. “I can’t—he can’t—”

“He won’t—they won’t,” Bucky says, rubbing Peter’s back. “Not fucking allowed.”

Peter squeezes his eyes shut tight, trying to stop crying. It’s embarrassing but he can’t, he goddamn can’t, he’s acted like such a stupid little kid in front of too many of his heroes, he’s supposed to be a hero now too, but he’s just being a kid. Crying into Bucky’s shoulder.

“What happened?” Sam’s voice asks.

“I am Groot.”

“Not sure—”

“Come on,” Strange’s voice says, and Peter can feel his hand on his arm. “I’ll gather everyone here, you two can go wait.”

“Peter,” Bucky whispers, gripping his shoulder. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Peter says, quickly pulling away and wiping at his eyes. There’s a lump in his throat and his breath hitches. “God, I’m sorry—”

“Come on, kid,” Bucky says, tugging him closer as they start walking. Peter looks up at him and sees that his eyes are red too. “I’m glad I have you with me.”

“Me too,” Peter croaks. 

He was hoping when they got out of there that things would be better. He was hoping the fears in his heart would never meet the air, and part of him feels like he brought this on. He knows that’s bullshit, that it’s impossible, but there’s nothing he wants more than the ability to make all of this go away. Right now. Tony and Steve, up and around. Back to normal.

~

Coma.

Peter keeps repeating the word in his head until it doesn’t sound or feel like a word anymore. _Coma coma coma coma._ Both of them. A steady, beeping heartrate on a high tech machine. Peter had taken one look at Steve, hugged Bucky again, and went back to Tony’s room next door and collapsed next to his bed. That had been four hours ago. He’d only gotten up once, when they brought him a change of clothes, and he’d been thankful for the big hoodie he could sink into. Pepper let him know that it belonged to Tony, which made Peter clutch it around himself even tighter. 

Tony’s arm has second degree burns and it’s broken, but otherwise, he’s healthy. Steve’s arm is broken too, burned and with nerve damage. Wakanda has some of the most intelligent and learned doctors in the world, and none of them know why Tony and Steve are out. Strange doesn’t know, nobody fucking knows. The only conclusion anyone can come to is some kinda magical repercussion of wielding the stones in the sword. Miss Danvers seems surprised that they aren’t dead.

Pepper is sitting next to Peter, and she shoves the plate of food on his tray closer to him. 

“I’m not hungry.”

“You had one sandwich in the span of a week,” she says, glaring at him. “You know he’d be pissed if he knew you were rejecting food.”

Peter sighs, scooting forward and picking up his fork. 

“May’s about two hours out,” Pepper says. 

Peter nods, clearing his throat. “Thank you for, uh—taking care of that for me.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Pepper says, rubbing his shoulder. Peter feels bad that he can’t be stronger for her—she’s the love of Tony’s life, his partner, and she’s probably a lot more affected than Peter is. He feels like there’s a truck sitting on his chest. He can’t imagine what she’s feeling. Tony is always so vibrant, full of life, constantly drawing in all the attention in the room. And now he’s just lying there, his arm in a sling. Peter can hardly look at him without feeling sick, without feeling like a failure.

He sighs, taking a bite of cabbage.

“He’s gonna wake up,” Pepper says, nodding. “There’s—there’s no way he doesn’t want to see the end of this. Tony has a very strong force of will. And he’s got a party to plan, we’ve already discussed it.”

He can’t tell if she’s trying to convince herself or him. Or both. She knows Tony better than anyone.

“You know how much he cares about you, right?” Pepper says.

Peter sighs, shaking his head. “Yeah, he wouldn’t be in here if it wasn’t for me.” 

“Peter,” Pepper says, shifting in her seat so she’s facing him. “What happened has nothing to do with you. Or anybody else. It would have happened if you were with him or if you were back home. Or here, or anywhere else. I get enough of this from him, no blaming here.”

“I just wish…”

She shakes her head at him and he goes quiet. She keeps talking. “And as for him winding up here, that’s—it’s always his decision, what he does. He wasn’t gonna let this stand,” Pepper says. “But because it was you—it just—it lit a fire under him. When he first got home, he was just—at a loss, I’ve never seen him like that. But once Steve came, gave him hope that he could—he could get you back, he wasn’t gonna stop until he did exactly that. That wasn’t about anybody or anything else—it’s just Tony, that’s how he is with people he loves, he’ll do anything to keep them safe.”

Peter puts his fork down. He can’t goddamn eat right now. He can’t believe he’s in a world where he can eat again and he can’t even bring himself to eat. Tony brought him back here. Tony’s in a coma because he brought him here.

His parents. Ben. Tony. People that love him get hurt. People that love him get taken.

“I can tell that look in your eye,” Pepper says, and there’s a soft smile on her face. “You’re a lot more like him than you think. You gotta stop this, nothing is on you. And he is gonna wake up. I promise you. He’s gonna be on your back for probably the rest of your life, so hopefully that’s what you signed up for.”

“He’s the best,” Peter says, wiping at his eyes. “I don’t know, uh—what I’d do without him.” He can’t think about it. It isn’t fair.

“He feels the same about you,” Pepper says, reaching out and squeezing his arm. “And you don’t have to explore that idea at all, because it isn’t gonna happen.”

“I’m sorry you’re the one that’s having to like…console me,” Peter says, and he sucks in a breath. “I should be—”

“Peter, I can’t imagine what you’ve been through,” she says. “I was lucky I wasn’t there too. It was a nightmare, but you’re back now. It isn’t ideal, it isn’t what we would have wanted for your homecoming, but I want you to know that things will get better. It’s what he would want me to say. I mean, it’s probably exactly what he’s saying in his head right now.” She sighs, reaching up and ruffling Peter’s hair. “And I care about you too, you know.”

He looks at her, tears in his eyes. He sucks in a breath and she clicks her tongue, leaning over and wrapping him up in a hug. He closes his eyes, holding onto her, and tries to focus his thoughts. _Tony, wake up. Wake up, wake up. We’re waiting for you._

“You wanna call somebody?” Pepper asks, pulling back. “One of your friends?”

Peter’s first thought is Ned. He’s been wondering what happened to him, if he was lost somewhere in the dimension too or stuck out here, thinking he was dead. He got to talk to May briefly earlier, and she’ll be here soon, but Ned—he really needs to talk to Ned.

“Yes, please,” he says, nodding at her.

“Of course,” she says. She reaches for her purse and grabs her phone out of the first compartment, unlocking it and handing it over. “That’s Tony’s phone, if you’re gonna call Ned he already has his number in there.”

Peter looks at her. “You know Ned? Wait—he has Ned’s number?” 

Pepper smiles. “Tony has the blood type and social security numbers of everybody you talk to regularly, because he’s insane.”

Peter snorts, isn’t exactly sure if she’s lying, but she looks pretty serious

He scrolls down and Ned’s number is actually there, and Peter quickly selects it. He brings the phone to his ear and his heart is beating so fast, fear permeating every part of him as he listens to the ring. _Pick up, man, pick up._

“Uh—Mr. Stark? Is this another mistake call? Peter isn’t with me.”

“Ned, it’s me,” Peter says, breathing hard through his mouth.

“Oh my God, Peter! Oh my God! Oh my God!”

Peter nearly crumbles. “Ned, holy shit.”

“Peter! I went to this—oh my god, dude, I turned to dust! Did you turn to dust too?”

“Yeah,” Peter says, sinking down in his seat. “I was wondering if you were there too. Oh my God, man, I’m so happy you’re okay.”

“I just like, came back here! Just woke up—yeah, he’s fine—I’m with MJ, we were in study group when it happened. That place was so weird, so weird, we were stuck with this dude—his name was Peter too, I was so mad that a Peter was there but it wasn’t _my_ Peter, you know? Not that I wanted you there, but I definitely wanted to know where you were—yes, so did MJ—that dude really annoyed her, he kept saying he was half God, called himself Star Lord—he was running all over the place trying to find someone named Gamora—and then we found this guy that claimed he was President of some planet or something, but MJ didn’t believe him, and the Star Lord guy didn’t believe him like, at all…”

Peter closes his eyes and just listens to the sound of Ned’s voice. For a minute, he feels at peace.

~

A little while later Bruce Banner and a girl Peter found out is the Black Panther’s sister come in to check on Tony. If things were normal, Peter would totally be losing his mind over seeing Bruce Banner in person, but things are decidedly not normal at all. He’s been in here three times now since Peter was let in, and Peter has hardly even said hello. His excitement over Ned lasted for about twenty minutes, but then he sat there watching Bruce and Pepper talk to Tony softly with no answers, and Peter feels sick and lost again. 

They do a bunch of things with holograms and big screens, and there’s a weird disappointment in Bruce’s eyes that Peter definitely doesn’t miss.

“Pepper, we need to find you a better chair,” Bruce says, pushing away some of the screens so they fade out. 

“I’m fine, Bruce, I promise,” Pepper says, waving him off. “How’s Steve?”

Bruce clenches his hands in front of him. “He actually just woke up,” he says.

Conflicting emotions cut through Peter’s chest. He’s ecstatic, especially for Bucky, that Steve is awake, but it makes him wonder why the hell Tony isn’t. Peter looks at his face. So calm, so still. It doesn’t feel like Tony at all.

Peter sinks further into his chair.

“Oh, wow,” Pepper says. “Good, that’s great.”

“He’s anxious to get in here,” Bruce says. “We tried to keep him down but you, uh—you know nobody can keep Steve down.”

“Seems right,” Pepper says, nodding. “God, I’m so glad.”

“Bucky’s helping him, they should be in here in a couple minutes,” Bruce says. “Do, uh—either of you need anything? Peter, your aunt should be here within the hour, probably sooner. We’ll bring her straight here when she arrives.”

“Thanks,” Peter says, voice small. 

“Peter,” Shuri says, approaching him. “I’m sorry, we haven’t spoken much—there’s been a lot to attend to.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry,” Peter says, and he wants to say _focus on him, wake him up, fix this_ but he says silent. He’s also a little afraid because she’s a princess and he doesn’t wanna seem like a freak or too demanding or anything. He clears his throat, trying to be normal. “Not really, uh, the time for small talk, I guess.”

“It’s the perfect time for that,” Pepper says. “Actually, it makes a lot of sense—he’s probably doing this on purpose so we all have to chat it up. He’s just listening, taking it all in. He loves when his friends are all together.”

Bruce smiles warmly at Tony and Shuri laughs. 

“Well, he’ll have a wonderful time when he wakes up,” Shuri says, and she sounds optimistic. Peter doesn’t know if she’s putting on or if she really believes it. He feels like he’s doubting everything right now. He feels like he’s losing his damn mind. “And Miss Potts, he absolutely made this boy sound like a four year old when he spoke about him,” Shuri says, gesturing to Peter.

Both Peter and Pepper snort at the same time. 

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s how he sees me,” Peter says, shaking his head. “A little toddler swinging through the air in New York with no supervision.”

“I think having you in his head kicked the protective instincts into high gear,” Pepper says, leaning on her elbow. “But trust me, he knows you’re a teenager with your own mind and ideas, he complains about it all the time.”

Peter smiles to himself, shaking his head. 

The door opens and Bruce rushes over to hold it when he sees who’s coming—Peter watches as Bucky and Steve hobble in, Steve tucked against Bucky’s side with Bucky supporting most of his weight. Steve's arm is in a sling, too, but it's his right opposed to Tony's left. Peter quickly gets up and pushes the chair on the other side of Tony’s bed closer, and Bucky smiles at him, depositing Steve there. Bucky pushes him a little closer to the bed, and immediately claps Peter on the shoulder. 

“Hey, bud,” Bucky says, pulling him into a hug.

Peter pretty much wants as many hugs as he can get right now and he leans into it. “Hey, I’m—I’m really glad he’s back, man.”

“Well, Tony’s right behind him, I’m sure,” Bucky says, pulling back and nodding at Peter.

“I’ve never felt like a one hundred year old man until right this second,” Steve says, breathing hard. Peter walks over to the other side of the bed and resumes sitting next to Pepper, while Bruce and Shuri stand at the edge of the bed. Peter watches Bucky watch Steve, gently touching his shoulder, and Peter smiles to himself. At least there’s them. Bucky is okay, Steve is awake. Things are on the right track there.

“Everybody made it, right?” Steve asks, looking at Bruce.

Peter feels a little bad that he didn’t even think to ask that. 

“Yes,” Bruce says. “Cuts and bruises, here and there, they’re observing Rhodey until he busts out of there to get in here, I think Scott has some burns and Nebula’s gonna need some work, but he was—much weaker than before, and we were ready. Having Carol really knocked us over the edge, she is an absolute machine, Hulk was distracted by how much ass she was kicking.”

“Thank God,” Steve says. He clears his throat and looks down at Tony.

“She’s off with Thor now, trying to fix something for him too,” Bruce says, gripping the edge of the bed.

“What happened with you guys, what—what do you think did this?” Peter asks, swallowing hard and looking up at Steve. “Just—wielding the stones? Using that weapon?”

“I’m not sure,” Steve says, meeting his eyes. He looks pale, smaller, not like anything Peter has ever seen or thought about him before. “When we turned the sword, stuck it in the ground—it was like—it was strange, like I was stuck in a tube of energy, reliving our lives—I saw my memories, his memories, like I was in all of them all at once. And then—the future.”

“The future?” Pepper asks, leaning forward. She keeps brushing Tony’s hair back from his forehead, a move that looks familiar and comforting.

“Yeah,” Steve says, simply. He looks at Tony again. “Which is why I know he’s gonna wake up.”

Peter’s heart beats fast. He wants to believe it, he needs to. He never thought he’d have Tony Stark in his life beyond Iron Man photos on his walls, but now that he’s here, Peter doesn’t want to live without him. He can’t, he can’t adjust to a life without the energy Tony brings to everything, the excitement, the way he treats Peter like something necessary and important after only knowing him for a couple years.

He’s family. 

Pepper asks Steve something else and Bruce chimes in, but Peter hears that high pitched noise in his ears again, the one that means his senses are starting to get the best of him. He doesn’t feel like Spiderman right now. He feels small, and useless, and at a loss. His stomach still hurts even though it’s healing. He wishes May would get here already. He wishes the whole damn world didn’t feel off its axis.

He wishes Tony would open his eyes.

He sighs, scooting forward and putting his hand on top of Tony’s, resting his forehead on the edge of the bed. The sheets are soft and for a moment it feels like a reprieve. 

“Peter, you alright?” Pepper asks, a hand on his back. 

Everything is loud, the brightness is still seeping through his eyelids despite how he’s squeezing them shut. He tries to relax. 

“Yeah,” he lies. “I’m okay.”

_Tony, wake up. Wake up, wake up._


	15. Chapter 15

_“Tony,” Pepper says, leaning over his shoulder. “Why are you buying a twelve foot beach ball?”_

_“Because Peter showed me this thing and the reviews on amazon are all these dramatic stories about how the ball is this unwieldy monster and he laughed so hard milk came out of his nose.” Tony clicks add to cart._

_Pepper shakes her head. “It’s a hundred dollars.”_

_“Chump change.”_

_“Not the point.”_

_“I’m going to—set it loose on the private beach in Malibu and see what happens.”_

_She pats him on the shoulder and leans down, her hair swinging into his face before she kisses him on the cheek. “You’re going to kill someone,” she says, and starts walking away, her heels clicking on the tile._

_He vaguely hears a voice in the distance, though he can’t tell who it belongs to. It encompasses the room, shifts and morphs between voices he recognizes. Peter. Pepper. Bruce. Rhodey. Steve. They’re telling him to wake up. Stop messing around. This isn’t the time to sleep._

_But Tony doesn’t understand. He’s awake. He’s throwing a dinner party. They’re all here. Right?_

_“Everybody here?” Tony calls, selecting one day shipping. They need to get on, like, one hour shipping. This is the goddamn future and he wants to see Peter’s reaction to this stupid thing today, not tomorrow._

_“Steve got here a few minutes ago, so yes, they’re all in the dining room and they’re gonna start eating without you if you don’t hurry up. Clint has his eye on the taco salad and you know I can’t stop him.”_

_Tony hears it again. The voices. Wake up, wake up._

_“Two minutes!” Tony calls. “Not even.”_

_“If you don’t follow me I’m gonna spoil the beach ball surprise for Peter,” Pepper says, halfway down the hall already._

_“Ah-ah-ah!” Tony yelps, quickly clicking checkout. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”_

_Then he’s on the beach at Coney Island. There’s rubble everywhere, parts of plane and smoldering wreckage from the tower. Peter’s broken body is a few feet away. Tony’s face falls and he feels sick and he breaks into a run, yelling his name. But he can’t hear himself, can’t hear anything but a rushing in his ears. He blinks and then everything is gone, the rubble, Peter, the voices._

_The twelve foot beach ball bounces through the sand in slow motion._

~

Tony’s head feels like it weighs three billion fucking tons. His left arm feels pinned to his side and he groans when he moves it a little too sharply, wincing. There’s a steady beeping that gains strength as he breathes harder, and he can’t remember what the hell happened. Why he’s in a bed this comfortable. Why he feels like a truck landed on him. 

He rolls his head to the side and slowly opens his eyes.

“Tony?” 

It’s Steve Rogers, looking a little worse for wear. And then, meeting his gaze, Tony remembers everything. The sword, the end of the world, the memories, the future, the soul world, Peter, _Peter_ —

“Where’s Peter?” Tony rasps, his voice rough like he hasn’t used it in a year. “Steve, where’s—”

“Right there,” Steve says, nodding at something over Tony’s shoulder. Tony turns and his breath catches in his throat—Peter is in the lounger next to his bed, wearing his favorite Black Sabbath hoodie, slumped on top of a pink pillow. Tony can hardly believe it—maybe he’s dreaming again—but he stares and stares and stares and Peter makes a stupid noise in his sleep, half snort half snore, and he crumples up his nose in a move that looks like he’s trying not to sneeze. It almost makes Tony want to cry, because half of him thought this would never happen again. Both of them, in the same space. He’d worried that Peter would be stuck in that shitty fucking place forever. But here he is. 

“Tony, are you alright?” Steve asks, eyes cutting over to the heart monitor. “Should I get—”

“No, no,” Tony breathes, just staring at the kid’s face. He’s actually here, right there, right in front of him, not a disembodied voice or a soul trapped in darkness. “Gimme a second here, I’m—I’m levelling out. Don’t want a bunch of hovering until absolutely necessary. AKA never.”

Steve laughs through his nose, and remains quiet. Tony fixates on the way Peter’s breathing and tries to match it, trying to keep calm. 

“You’ve got a full house,” Steve says. 

Tony looks past Peter and sees Pepper and May sleeping on the blue couch in the corner, their heads together. Rhodey is splayed out in the white lounger on the far wall, a few butterfly bandages on his face and a brace around his knee. Bruce is in a chair next to him, his forehead pressed against the side of the lounger, and he’s snoring louder than anybody else is. Tony looks back at Steve and sees Bucky knocked out too, looking a lot like an old man who fell asleep watching TV.

Tony clears his throat. “So—they brought more couches and chairs in here to accommodate everybody—”

“Yeah—”

“—and just to—just to be clear—all of these people are in here, and you and I are just—blatantly not wearing pants, correct?”

Steve smiles and he dips his head down. “Uh—yeah, that’s right. No pants brigade.”

“Perfect,” Tony says. “Just what I always wanted.”

Really, he’s about inches from crying, because the people he loves are here, because Peter’s back, because it worked, because he’s alive. It’s so rare things turn out right when they hung so delicately in the balance, when impossibility and his shit luck are looming and breathing down his neck. 

He tries to remain calm. Number one goal.

“So, uh—it worked everywhere? Problem solved?” Tony asks.

Steve nods. “Yeah,” he says. “We’ve been keeping up with the news, making contact—Carol is fixing a couple things with the time stone, people that died in accidents as a result of the snap, everyone that we lost here—”

“Good,” Tony says, closing his eyes and letting out a breath.

“Yeah,” Steve says. “Then Thor is gonna take one set of stones and leave them somewhere safe—”

“But then he’s gonna come back, right?” Tony asks, before he can even think the phrase through. Way, way too clingy, but it’s out already.

“Yeah,” Steve says, softly. “Yeah, he’ll be back.”

“I mean, either way, it’s fine,” Tony says. He shrugs and it fucking hurts and he nearly blacks out, sucking in a breath. 

He feels Steve’s hand on his shoulder. “Try to stay away from any kind of movements that jar your arm,” he says. “I’ve got the same deal except nerve damage too.”

“Oh, I avoided that?” Tony asks, through gritted teeth. “How’d I manage that?”

“No idea,” Steve says. “Maybe it was meant to be you all along, wielding the sword in retaliation. Maybe I was just along for the ride.”

“Oh shut up, Cap,” Tony says, glaring at him. “Pretty sure my whole body would feel like my fucking arm if you hadn’t been there.” He’s one hundred percent sure he’d be dead if Steve hadn’t been there. There’s no doubt in his mind. He looks over at Pepper, at Peter next to his bed. 

He’s so fucking lucky Steve was there with him.

“And now look, we’ve got matching slings,” Tony says, glancing down at the red material currently pinning his arm to his side. “Fashion statement of the century. Once the world sees me and you rocking these things everybody’s gonna start doing it, broken arm or not.”

Steve snorts. They sit in a comfortable silence for a couple long moments, and Tony looks over at Pepper. 

“How long was I out?” Tony asks.

“Uh, in twenty more minutes it would have been eighteen hours,” Steve says, looking at his watch. 

“You’re counting? How sweet.”

“Just keeping track.”

“Sorry I’m late,” Tony says, clearing his throat. “You know I gotta, uh—make my entrance.” And this is one of the quieter entrances he’s made in his life, most of the audience snoozing, but Tony doesn’t care. 

“Don’t worry, I held down the fort,” Steve says.

Tony sighs, nodding. He can’t believe it’s over. It feels insane, like there should be something else he needs to do. “The thing I regret most,” Tony says, staring up at the ceiling, the pain from moving his arm finally receding, “is that we didn’t get to see Danvers tear that giant plum a new one.”

“I’m sure one of them was wearing a body cam,” Steve says. “Plus we’ll get eighteen different versions of the story. Like choose your own adventure.”

Tony smiles, shaking his head. He can imagine everybody gathered together, Clint and Scott arguing over whether or not Carol moved left or right to cut Thanos’s fucking arm off. 

“You think you’ll give yourself a break?” Steve asks. Tony turns to look at him and notices that he looks really young right now, especially posing this question. 

“Will you?” Tony asks, raising his eyebrows. 

“I mean, you’ve got a wedding to plan,” Steve says, averting his eyes. “You’ve got a life to live—”

“You do too,” Tony says. “Where’s your break?”

“Maybe I’ll take one,” Steve says. “I don’t know.”

“If you do, I will,” Tony says. He can’t imagine what else is out there. There could be anything, ready to strike, ready to upend everything they fought to get back. He doesn’t want to think about it. It’s hard to imagine leaving the world to its own devices, since there’s so much in it he wants to keep safe. He knows there are other heroes, people to defend what they love most, but he doesn’t think he’d be able to forgive himself for standing by when people need help. He knows Steve feels the same way. 

“Maybe a brief one,” Steve says, still not meeting Tony’s eyes. 

“Long enough for a party,” Tony says. “And, uh, a wedding.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be at your wedding.”

“You’ll be _in_ my wedding,” Tony says.

That makes Steve look up at him. “Really? You want me in your wedding?”

“Of course,” Tony says, scoffing. He’s already been thinking about it. Rhodey, Happy, Peter, Steve, Bruce, Thor, Clint. It’s a lot, like he’s a bride with too many friends and Pepper will definitely make fun of him—but it feels right, it feels like what he wants. 

The emotions are boiling up again and he looks away—when he turns his head he sees Peter, eyes wide, staring at him. Tony smiles at him, at the dumb expression on his face, trying to live through the unbearable fondness he feels for this spider kid. “Hey Pete,” he says.

“Hey,” Peter says, but it sounds like a question.

“Can you help me sit up, kid? I’d ask Rogers but the bum arm might get in his way.”

Tony hears Steve laughing as Peter scrambles to his feet. “Yes, yeah, of course,” Peter says. He takes hold of Tony’s shoulders and Tony groans as he shifts up the bed, static in his eyes, and Peter quickly readjusts the pillows behind him, building up a wall. 

“That good?” Peter asks, sounding anxious.

“Perfect,” Tony says. He glances back at Steve and sees him waking Bucky up, saying something so quiet that Tony can’t hear. Tony looks back at Peter and sees him still standing there, staring down at him with worried eyebrows and an open mouth. “You okay?” Tony asks, trying not to laugh.

“Are—am—are you okay?” Peter asks, aggressively. “What about you? That’s—that’s the real, important question here, you were in a coma, you—you were the one that I found almost—almost dead on the ground and you just like, looked at me and said my name and then just—stopped answering and I thought—and then they told me that you—that you were in a—in a—”

Tony can’t take it anymore, the look on the kid’s face, the tears lining his eyes, the pure panic in his voice. He reaches out, taking hold of Peter’s wrist. “Peter,” he says. “C’mere, c’mon.”

Peter sinks down onto the side of the bed and he’s breathing hard, stiff as a board when Tony pulls him into a hug. It feels like he’s trying to be careful of Tony’s left arm but he’s sitting on his good side anyway, so Tony pulls him closer, holding him tighter. He feels like he needs this just as much as Peter does—it’s hard to admit or say out loud, but this kid makes him feel like a better person, makes him want to be a good example, and Tony would do anything to protect him. He’s been wanting a kid of his own and he knows that’s because Peter feels like a son to him, such an incredible, essential addition to his life. Something and someone he never expected, but who quickly became one of the puzzle pieces that makes Tony Stark whole.

This is _his kid_. _The_ kid.

“Oh my God, I thought you weren’t gonna wake up,” Peter breathes, muffled against Tony’s shoulder. “I thought I was gonna like, have to sit here waiting on you forever.”

“Nah, not worth it,” Tony says, ruffling Peter’s hair. “I’m a really heavy sleeper.”

Peter pulls back and stares at him with that honest look that half breaks Tony’s heart every time. “I’m really, really, really glad you’re not dead.”

“Same,” Tony says, patting Peter’s cheek. “Don’t think I’d like it much.”

“No, I wouldn’t like it either,” Peter says, shaking his head. 

Tony can’t help but smile, and he tries to keep it from spreading too wide. “So you’re okay, right? How’s the alien battle wound?”

“Fine,” Peter says, looking down at himself. “It’s basically all healed up.”

“Good,” Tony says, another weight off his mind. Though they are here—it seems like Wakanda can take care of just about anything. 

“How long do you think you guys will have to be in here?” Peter asks.

“Hopefully not long enough for you to steal more of my clothes,” Tony says, picking at the sleeve of the hoodie Peter is wearing.

“Oh, oh, I’ll give it back,” Peter says, starting to tug at the bottom.

Tony scoffs, reaching out and stopping his hand. “No, crazytown, I’m kidding. Keep it, I have like three more exactly like it and Pepper’s getting tired of my hoarding.”

Peter smiles at him, nodding, and before Tony can prepare, the kid is wrapping him in another hug. 

“Thank you,” Peter says. “Thank you, thank you, a million times thank you.”

Tony closes his eyes. “No thanks needed,” he says, because the kid deserves to live, deserves to have the best life. Because the world needs him, even if the world doesn’t deserve him. Because Tony can’t live without him. Not anymore.

~  
~  
~  
~

Tony doesn’t know why Peter decided that the party playlist was gonna be full of hits from the nineties. Another Backstreet Boys song comes on and Tony hasn’t ever thought about the Backstreet Boys this much in his entire life, but Pepper keeps mouthing along to the words and swinging her hips, which is good. Always a good thing. So he allows the terrible music.

It’s been three months, and both he and Steve still have their injured arms in casts, which Tony is none too pleased about. Of course the damage isn’t normal because what they did wasn’t an everyday occurrence, but Shuri seems convinced that Tony should be in ship shape in another four months, and Steve in another six. They stuck around in Wakanda for the first two months and Tony had to literally force Peter to go back home and finish the school year. Even May had been interested in staying, which made things all the more difficult. Once they were gone Tony felt a little off until Pepper got him back on his feet, and Steve made him watch the news more than Tony has ever wanted to watch the news. But the easy back and forth he’s built with Steve doesn’t falter now that the life or death situation is over, which relieves Tony more than he can ever express. 

He’d never, ever say it out loud, though. Not even to Pepper, who gazes at him with all these knowing, irritating looks whenever he and Steve are together and he laughs too hard or some shit. He never thought he’d need or want Cap’s friendship as much as he does, but he’s finally admitted to himself and whatever God and spirits are listening—they’re better together.

The party hadn’t taken long to plan because he hadn’t planned it himself—he just told Pepper what he wanted and she and Peter took the wheel and got everything done. He’d only had two requests—his very specific guest list and the sixteen pizzas he’d promised.

He walks through, admiring everything and everyone and the decidedly different tone this event has compared to every other time they’ve gotten together in large groups lately. 

Thor, Maria, Nick and Clint are gathered by the window where Thor regales his version of the final battle, and nobody is saying shit about the weird green parrot on Thor’s shoulder, not even Tony himself. Thor keeps throwing strange looks at it, but other than that he lets it sit there and nip at his ear every couple of minutes.

“There was no intimidation in her eyes, not for one moment!” Thor says, with wide gestures, enough to ruffle the parrot’s feathers. The bird has strangely human eyes, like it knows more than it should.

“That’s Danvers for you,” Fury says, exchanging a proud look with Maria.

“She looked intimidated by that glass of scotch I brought her,” Clint says.

“Scotch never intimidates me,” Carol says, from the leather chair behind them. She looks like a queen on her throne and Tony’s thankful as all fuck that she’s on their team. “And Thor, what the hell is with the parrot?”

“Nothing,” Thor says, and side-eyes the thing again.

Tony snorts, shaking his head and continuing on. Pepper, May and Sam are at the bar and Sam is blushing up a storm, covering his face, and May keeps nudging into him and smiling as she relays stories to Pepper. Tony guesses she’s referring to the time they spent together when Sam went to go retrieve her when it was all over, and from the look on Pepper’s face, she and Tony are once again on the same page for what this might mean. Tony scans the crowd to see if Peter is noticing his aunt’s flirting or the gentle hand Sam has on her back, but he doesn’t see the kid anywhere, which presents a small tinge of anxiety in the back of Tony’s throat. 

He was thrilled he could get all the Guardians here, as well as T’Challa, Okoye, Ayo and a few more of the Dora Milaje and the king’s guard. Shuri has been trying to sneak drinks, almost always being thwarted by her brother, and she keeps eyeing Tony and his arm to make sure he isn’t exerting himself. Right now T’Challa is regarding Quill warily while Gamora, Quill’s girlfriend that Tony had finally gotten to meet earlier, continually steps in to make sure Quill doesn’t say something stupid. Natasha and Okoye are a few steps away, hanging all over each other, both smiling and swaying and Tony quickly turns before he’s accused of being a creepy weirdo for staring.

Drax, Mantis, Groot and Rocket are to the right of the group, with the arcade games Tony had put in, and Rocket is hissing out a running commentary on why Galaga is the worst game because Groot got such a better score. Nebula has a Tron console to herself, and seems intent on making it her bitch.

Tony keeps searching for Peter, realizing he doesn’t see Steve or Bucky anywhere, either. Wanda and the newly restored Vision are on the couch with Bruce and Clint’s family, all watching Ellen DeGeneres on her daily segment about ‘Void Life’, where she interviews different high end celebrities that dusted and details what they did while they were gone. Bruce looks particularly judgmental about some guy named Stan Lee who insists he was with the likes of Queen Elizabeth and Kim Kardashian. 

“They didn’t get along well at all, but I wasn’t expecting them to!” Stan says.

“Who is this guy?” Bruce asks. “Feel like I’ve seen him before.”

“No idea, Dr. Banner,” Wanda says, but she just looks serene and happy to have Vision beside her again. “I didn’t have anyone exciting with me.”

“Tony,” a voice says, from over his left shoulder. Tony twists and sees Strange standing there, looking different not all done up with his cape and wizard attire. Tony sees Wong a few steps behind him, locked in a battle of wills with Clint over how many licks they got in on Thanos and his guys back on Ammeg. 

“Oh, hey, doc,” Tony says, looking him up and down. He’s got a seltzer water in his hand, which is completely lame, but Tony doesn’t say anything.

“How’s your arm?” Strange asks.

Tony looks down at it. “Feels like it’s becoming fused to my side,” he says. The cast has a bunch of stupid writing on it, most of it courtesy of Peter, a few of the nicer lines from Pepper. Rhodey wrote _TONY STANK STINKS_ near the elbow.

“Small price to pay,” Strange says, looking around. “For all this.”

“Definitely,” Tony says, following his gaze. His heart feels full, the relief palpable, and even though a lot of these people are dumbasses, they are his family. He watches as Happy joins Pepper behind the bar, holding one of those sandwich plates with about thirty mini pinwheel sandwiches on it. Tony snorts, figuring he’s highjacked it just for them, and he watches Sam steal one…and immediately hand it to May. Oh man, this is happening. Tony looks back at Strange. “So is this what you saw?” he asks. “Endgame, all that?”

“I saw Parker disappearing,” Strange says. “And I saw your pain, your vengeance. I knew with that kind of motivation, you’d be able to set things right.”

Tony clears his throat, nodding. “Yeah, your little mind melds helped us out, too.”

“Thought they might,” Strange says, a small smile on his face.

“You got the time stone on you now?” Tony asks. They’d decided he’d get dominion over it again, the one from their universe, but Tony has no idea where the rest of the stones are, and he isn’t exactly interested in finding out.

Strange just looks at him. 

Tony laughs. “Alright, buddy, just keep it handy in case one of these drunk idiots manages to crash through a glass table or something.”

“Will do,” Strange says, and he looks at him with a lot more respect and kindness than he did when they first met. 

Tony keeps walking and then he feels someone else grab his shoulder, but this time he knows it’s Rhodey before he even turns around. 

“I found this,” Rhodey says, and when Tony turns he sees Rhodey and Peter standing there, Peter beaming. 

“What was this doing?” Tony asks, trying to hide his relief that Peter is within eyesight again. Jesus, he needs to chill out. 

“This was plotting with Scott on pulling pranks while Scott was ant size,” Rhodey says, and Peter laughs, breathless. “He looked crazy bending down talking to the floor.”

“Harmless stuff,” Peter says, shrugging. “Like popping balloons, moving things through the air like ghosts, I was just gonna play along—”

“I’m gonna go keep searching for Scott,” Rhodey says, his brows furrowed. “He dove away before I could step on him and end all of this forever.”

“How about no murder at my party?” Tony asks. He can tell Rhodey has already had one too many by the way he’s moving. Rhodey laughs, leaning in and kissing Tony on the cheek before he retreats away, shoving Peter closer.

“I think Colonel Rhodes is drunk,” Peter says, watching Rhodey yell out _Scott! Ant! Hey Ant!_ as he stalks through the room. Thor’s voice also mixes in there as he breaks away from his group, eagerly calling for Bruce.

“Good deduction, kid,” Tony says, throwing his good arm around Peter’s shoulders. “Where’re your friends?”

“On their way,” Peter says, as they keep walking, the sun shining in through the back window. It lights up the jade feathers on the bird’s wings, and the blond of Thor’s hair. “Traffic’s been piling up.”

“Well, this’ll be going on all day,” Tony says. “They’ve got time.” He smiles to himself, looking down at Peter. “You having fun?”

“So much fun,” Peter says, beaming. 

“You saw the pizzas, right?” Tony asks. He’d stacked them in the dining room and tried to make some kind of stupid pyramid, failing epically. Eventually he just took up the entire table with the open boxes and called it a day.

“Of course.”

“I got nine of them in the gross way that you like, I even got extra pineapples, that’s how much I love you—” the words come out before he means them to and he coughs over them, clearing his throat obnoxiously, “—but I had to be normal for the rest of them so we wouldn’t have a riot on our hands, Natasha likes her mushrooms.”

“Yeah, she and General Okoye already got all mad about the amount of pineapples there were,” Peter says.

Tony narrows his eyes. “Well, tell ‘em to come to me if they have any more complaints,” he says. He looks over his shoulder. “You seen Steve and Bucky anywhere? I know I saw them get here but I know old men can get lost in big places.”

“Uh, no,” Peter says, but he looks like a deer in headlights.

The song switches to _My Heart Will Go On_ and Tony glares at Peter.

“Ugh.”

“Yeah, ugh,” Tony echoes. “Why is this playlist the worst? I thought I could trust you.”

“I love nineties music.”

“But now we’re listening to the Titanic song.”

“I know.”

Tony snorts, shaking his head. They’re approaching the back balcony but he feels like his whole body snaps to attention when he hears something weird coming from the supply closet.

“Hey, look, Groot is getting a new high score in Galaga,” Peter says, tugging on Tony’s wrist and trying to turn him around. 

“That’s incredible,” Tony says, honed in on the noise now. “But I think I’m about to squash an annoying ant.”

“No, definitely not, Scott was like—over there, he wanted to change that big light to a black light.”

“I think he’s moved on to something else,” Tony says. He extricates himself from Peter even though Peter is grabbing onto him and trying to drag him away. 

“Mr. Stark, I’m gonna go get a drink.”

“Like hell you are.”

“I’m doing it, right now,” Peter says, still trying to hold him back, his hands locked around Tony’s good arm. “I’m gonna like—drink bourbon. That entire bottle of bourbon you have in there, I’m gonna drink it!”

“May will kill you on sight, and I’ll watch,” Tony says.

“Tony!”

“Stop protecting Lang, kid, he only brought you a sandwich because I wanted him to—”

“No, no!”

Tony grabs the handle and whips the closet door open. He promptly has a heart attack. His brain explodes. He can’t move. Steve and Bucky are in there, pressed up against the shelves and locked in a kiss that’s decidedly not chaste. They don’t seem to know the door is open and they keep going at it, clawing at each other, Bucky cradling Steve’s bum arm. Steve is nearly in Bucky’s lap, and there’s a bunch of supplies on the floor. 

“Uh. Is this, uh. A drunk thing. Or. Or a….uh.” Tony can’t think.

They pull apart at the sound of his voice and slowly look at him. Steve steps back and starts wiping himself off, not meeting Tony’s eyes. There are a lot of crumbs all over Steve’s chest for some reason. Were they eating cookies and making out? What the hell is happening?

“Tony,” Steve says, his voice breaking.

“Cap.”

“I’m sorry, Bucky,” Peter says, appearing beside Tony and shaking his head. “You know how he is—”

“You know how he is?” Tony repeats, looking at him. 

“Like a bloodhound.”

Tony blinks a bunch of times, shaking his head. He’s malfunctioning. He has no idea where he is. Celine Dion is singing and Captain America is making out with the Winter Solider in a supply closet.

“It’s okay, kid,” Bucky says, looking at Peter fondly.

“We’re gonna go,” Tony says, too loud. “Just—enjoy—I don’t know, I have no idea what’s happening.” He quickly shuts the door. And stands there outside it for a couple seconds, his brain trying to reboot.

“I was trying to stop you,” Peter says, leading him away. But he’s smiling, shaking his head.

“You should have said ‘what you’re about to see is going to shock and confuse you’ and then maybe I would have gone in with a little more caution.”

“That sounds like you still would have opened the door.”

“Yeah I probably would have opened it no matter what.” He doesn’t know how to not be nosy. 

Peter is looking at him anxiously. “You’re not, uh—homophobic, are you, Mr. Stark?”

Tony scoffs. “Kid, no, not in the slightest.” There are a lot of things Peter doesn’t know, a lot of things Peter will definitely never, ever know. “No. No, I’m not, I just—seeing Steve make out with anybody is a shock, but Bucky—I mean—yeah, I mean, I guess it makes sense.” He feels half insane.

“They’re good for each other,” Peter says, smiling. 

“I sense you had a hand in this,” Tony says, looking down at him. “You didn’t have to tell them to go into a supply closet, you could have—” He pictures more than what he saw happening, he pictures it happening _here_ and he nearly trips over his own feet. “No, you know what—I’m done thinking about this.”

Peter snorts, walking them back into the middle of the party. Thor is sitting on the couch with Bruce now and seems like he’s preening over him, and Fury is there now too, overanalyzing what Ellen is saying to this Stan guy. Tony is still trying to process what happened in the Steve closet—supply closet—and trying to stop thinking about it all at the same time.

“If you still had me in your head you would have known what was going on in there,” Peter says. “And with Scott. He’ll probably be better behaved once Hope gets here, but still, he keeps, uh—telling me his plans, so like—you would have been able to hear me responding. If I was still in your head.”

Tony smiles, looking down at him. “You miss it?” he asks.

Peter shrugs. “Maybe. Might come in handy one day.”

“Sounds like you want Strange to reinstate it.”

Peter shrugs again. 

Tony gets it, considering he’s become extremely overbearing with the kid and pretty much everybody else who makes up his world. It could be something to keep in mind, if trouble ever finds them again. Which, unfortunately, Tony thinks that it will.

But for now he wants to focus on this. Everybody he loves in one place, laughing, drinking, having fun and getting a moment to just be normal. The love of his life sitting on the counter next to Happy, swinging her legs and eating what looks like her fifth or sixth pinwheel sandwich. His teammates, his family all around him. And the kid he’d do anything for, right by his side.

He hears joyful laughing coming from the supply closet and he shakes his head, blushing. Peter grins. 

“You okay, Tony?” Peter asks.

“Yeah, Pete,” he says, his chest warm, thoughts of a big group portrait or something floating around in his head. “Yeah, I’m—I’m good. Everything’s perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been so incredible. I never expected this kind of response and I am so grateful for this fandom for showing me what it's like to watch a story succeed. I love you guys and I hope you enjoyed this ending. Let me know what you think, and I've got a couple ideas for some new stories floating around in my head. So you'll see me around :)


End file.
